


Crossroads

by DarkElements10



Series: Between A Rock and A Hard Place [1]
Category: 3 Ninjas (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-01-29 17:49:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 45
Words: 181,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkElements10/pseuds/DarkElements10
Summary: They boys have reached a crossroads in their lives where they must decide whether to move on and leave childish things behind. With his senior year starting soon, everything all comes down on Rocky at once, making the normal pressures of life almost unbearable. When Jack Harding is released from prison Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum are initially wary. Soon they learn they aren't Harding's target rather than the whole city of Los Angeles. A revenge plan that's been in the process for years. The boys know they have to do something to save the city, but they may not be able to come out on top this time.
Series: Between A Rock and A Hard Place [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928182
Comments: 12
Kudos: 3





	1. It Starts Again

**Author's Note:**

> Crosspost from FFN

**Crossroads**

**By: Riley**

**Full Summary**** – **They boys have reached a crossroads in their lives where they must decide whether to move on and leave childish things behind. With his senior year starting soon, everything all comes down on Rocky at once, making the normal pressures of life almost unbearable. When Jack Harding is released from prison Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum are initially wary. Soon they learn they aren't Harding's target rather than the whole city of Los Angeles. A revenge plan that's been in the process for years. The boys know they have to do something to save the city, but they may not be able to come out on top this time.

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

There was a full moon that night. Rocky only knew because he'd watched it rise through the small window in the back of the pizza parlor where he was up to his elbows in sauce, cheese, toppings, and pizza dough.

With a heavy sigh, he drew his arm across his forehead. When that didn't stop the sweating, he leaned away from the food in front of him and shook his head, splattering droplets along the floor. It wasn't sanitary, and probably broke a few of the food handling rules, but after a long, eight hour shift he was done caring.

Rocky looked out the window again. A better way to tell time than by staring at the clock all night. Not that he didn't like his job at the pizza parlor, it was a job, he couldn't complain. He just wished it wasn't the same pizza parlor that he and his brothers had to work in after destroying it while trying to defend their friend, Jo Lightning, from some goons.

All because his boss never stopped reminding him about it.

Rocky couldn't even begin to count how many times he'd ask for his paycheck or would be counting the money in the register at the end of the day and his boss would make a comment about wanting to keep him around so he could 'beat up the guys who want to rob me'. Or mention the Mega Mountain amusement park and laugh. Or the time they helped the Indian Reserve. It didn't help that his boss put newspaper clippings of all the adventures Rocky and his brothers went on behind the counter for the whole world to see.

It was embarrassing, but Rocky understood. A lot of the local businesses had done the same, proud to have the '3 Ninjas' there to save them when needed.

Hometown heroes and all that.

How many times had their father and grandfather tried to remind them not to let their achievements and successes go to their heads? Rocky smiled, remembering the lesson he learned about the flowers on the Indian Reservation just outside the city. It was funny how so many people said he had an ego or that he was a 'showoff' about the whole thing when, in actuality, he wanted to move on and keep living.

It was fun to talk about sometimes, but all the attention embarrassed him. Lately, his brothers were starting to feel the same way. Embarrassed by the attention but willing to talk about it when asked. Things had been quiet around their city for a long time, to the point that their mother had finally given in to Rocky's question of the boys having their own rooms. At least he deserved one, he was the eldest and needed some time away from his brother's constant nosiness. Well, their moves were a part of it, sure. What self-respecting parent would have their house broken into and their children kidnapped and not move? The first time had been because of Snyder's goons, the second time had been simply because his father got a promotion, a raise, and a new house. Still, it was good to see their mother didn't feel the need to continuously check up on them.

Besides, how many high schoolers had a curfew? Or at least a curfew that didn't extend around a job.

Rocky's job was a good place for time to himself…until Colt and Tum-Tum came in to order. They liked to make things a little difficult for him sometimes. But the night was slow. Which was unusual for a Friday. Usually there were teenagers all over the place, talking and laughing with each other as they celebrated the start of the weekend. Usually, his best friend, Jason, would be working the night shift along with him. But it seemed like everyone had something better to do that night. There might've been something about a party going on, he wasn't really sure. Parties weren't always his thing but he did drop by them every now and then, usually when Emily asked or made it known she wanted him there.

It was funny how things managed to change as they got older while other things continued to stay the same.

_At least I only have to worry about some takeout orders, _Rocky thought. Enough to keep his mind off the remaining minutes in his shift. Rocky continued to knead the pizza dough in front of him. Once it was flattened enough, he made quick work of putting on the rest of the toppings—of which he could now do with his eyes closed—before using a large spatula to stick it in the oven. He had just taken two more out and was cutting them when the bell over the door rang.

"I'll be with you in a minute," he called, quickly boxing the pizzas in front of him.

"No worries, mate, take your time," the accented voice replied.

Eyebrows coming together, Rocky looked up to see a girl about his age looking around the pizza parlor. She turned to face him, smiling as she did so. "Hi."

"Hi," Rocky replied. He rubbed his hands on his apron, trying in vain to get the pizza sauce off his fingers. "Sorry…I'll be with you in a minute."

"You already said that," the girl pointed out.

"Right, yeah, uh, I guess I did…" Rocky replied. He stepped back from the counter, squinted. "Are you new around here?"

The girl leaned counter and rested her arms on it, still smiling. "What gave it away?"

"Your accent," Rocky replied.

The girl's smile melted into a confused frown almost instantly. "What accent?" She asked. Rocky paused for a second, unsure of what to say. Then she smiled again. "I'm just messing with you. My family and I just moved here a few days ago. We're still trying to get settled in."

"Hence the pizza," Rocky said.

"Hence the pizza," she agreed.

"When I got the order, I thought it was going to an army."

"No, just a very hungry, very big family. Is it any good?"

Rocky shrugged. "I eat here as much as I work here." _Unfortunately, _he silently added. "So I'd say so."

"I reckon I'll take your word for it." She pointed to the three boxes sitting next to him. "Are those mine?"

Rocky turned his head and stared at the boxes for a second, almost forgetting hey were there, then nodded. "Two large chicken and bacon and a large pepperoni and bacon?"

"That's it."

"Then that'll be fifteen dollars."

"Ace." She fished into the pockets of her jean shorts and pulled out a wallet. She rifled through it, giving Rocky a glimpse of colorful paper inside, before finding the correct bills and pulling them out. Showing off the dragon tattoo that stretched along her arm. "Here you are."

"Thank you."

"It's alright." Rocky looked at her in confusion for a moment, but quickly put the money in the register. Then he handed over the boxes of pizza. She took them, taking a minute to check the contents inside, then smiled once more. "Thanks. Have a good night."

"You too," Rocky said. As the bell dinged over the door, signaling her leave, Rocky turned to the clock on the wall and let out a sigh of relief. Time to close. He and the owner, Lincoln, cleaned off the counters, tossed out the expired food, cleaned out the ovens, and counted the money in the register before Rocky was given his pay and able to leave.

Finally, he pulled off his apron and his baseball cap, balling them up in his hands as he walked to back to his car, rolling down the windows as soon as he got in. The job was fine but he didn't particularly like smelling like garlic all the time.

* * *

"_The infamous Jack Harding—known for his hand in the pollution of the Indian Reservation—was released from jail earlier this afternoon. Harding is well known for his numerous lucrative businesses as well as the toxic landfill that poisoned several of the Indian community's elders. Since having been sent to prison, Harding lost all of his assets and what has been attached to his estate. As with the case of Hugo Snyder and Medusa, FBI agent Samuel Douglas's three sons were among those who took down Jack Harding. He has fully served his term in prison before his release."_

The heading of that day's newspaper read _Harding Released from Prison_ and it was all the news stations would talk about. It wasn't every day a businessman not only conned people out of their money, but endangering the lives of those on protected land for his own gain was harder for people to wrap their heads around. Especially when it was sacred to those that lived there. When it came out that Jack Harding had also been working with city officials with bribery and corrupt dealings, the scandal was busted wide open.

Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum even had to stand trial to explain the things they'd seen as well as explaining their hand in taking him down. All the while Samuel Douglas Sr. sat back and watched from the audience, wondering what it was that would let his boys would have a normal teenage life. _Normal went out the window a long time ago, Sam, get over it, _Sam thought. Ever since his father-in-law started teaching them martial arts the worst kinds of people were attracted to them like magnets.

Sam had gotten a healthy dose of fear when he'd returned from a night out and found Hugo Snyder had hired someone to kidnap his boys. All because of his dealing with the FBI. After that, his boys found trouble themselves.

Now Harding was released back on the streets. Sam made sure he had the newspaper with him that morning, just in case one of his sons found it and panicked. He didn't expect them to panic, if he were honest, they had grown up too much for that, seen too many things that other kids their age wouldn't have. But none of them had spoken about their past experiences unless the conversation turned to that topic. They stopped having nightmares, they didn't have panic attacks when left in small rooms, nothing. They still went to their grandfather's house to learn more about martial arts and were still planning on going that summer, even if Rocky was about to go into his senior year.

As far as he knew, Rocky was still going to visit his father after graduating high school. None of them talked about it much but Mori _was _getting up there in years. Even he had started to take things a little easier than years before. More lines and wrinkles were evident in his face, his hair was grayer than it had ever been before, and his limp was more prominent than any of them had ever seen, especially when he got up after sitting down for too long. There were too many things that were starting to change and it wasn't long until they had to acknowledge it.

Sam continued to study the newspaper, despite knowing exactly what it said. He had it memorized. Suddenly, his phone rang, making him jump so badly that he knocked over his cup of pens and pencils. Pathetic. How pathetic was it that one of the past villains as Jessica dubbed them, was released from prison and he was immediately turned into a mental case. These guys had caused so much trauma it was already starting to get to him again.

"Douglas here," Sam said, answering his phone.

"Sam, you're still there?" His partner, Jerry Curl asked. Both men held tension in their tones, but didn't want the other to hear it. Even as he sat in his seat, Sam could feel his muscles starting to tense, one by one, top to bottom.

"Yes, unfortunately," Sam sighed. He tried his hardest to relax. "Just thinking about the boys."

"There's nothing you can do about this Sam," Jerry pointed out. "He's an innocent man. He did his time, he's walking free."

"He may be free but he's hardly innocent," Sam pointed out. Released on good behavior. What a bunch of bullshit. Sam could practically see Jerry shaking his head as he said, "Don't dwell on this, Sam. It's just going to make things harder. The only thing you can do now is move forward. You know that."

"What do you expect me to do, Jerry? Ignore it? We just moved and got settled down, everything is perfect now. I don't want to have to move everyone again. Not when the only thing we could do is move from the city and I can't do that to Rocky in his senior year."

"No one said you have to. No one said anything about him coming back after your kids. It'd be a bit pathetic if he were to get out of prison and then go straight back because he wants revenge on a couple of kids that took down his business dealings. The entire city was against him, not just your boys."

"I know, I—" Sam let out a long breath. Jerry was a great guy and one of his best friends, a good partner to have…but he didn't understand. Didn't understand what it was like as a father to know that his job was one of the main reasons his sons continued to get themselves into trouble. Jerry had a wife he loved very much but never ended up having kids. His job was enough to sustain his happiness, but Sam's was his children. No matter how much he worked, no matter the promotions and raises nothing satisfied him more than seeing his children grow. "I guess my nerves are kinda shot," he finally admitted. "I'm telling you Jer, my kids are running me ragged and driving me crazy all at the same time."

"That's fine, Sam. I think we all understand. Just…make sure you get some rest, relax a little."

"In our line of work, I don't think that's possible."

"You're too right. I'll talk to you later."

"See ya."

Sam put the phone down. He stared at the newspaper in front of him for a long moment. Then he reacted violently, slamming his hands down on the desk top and yelled out a curse. Things were supposed to be looking up for them, how big of a setback was it going to be knowing that Harding was now back out?

In his experience, they never went quietly.

* * *

"Hey Sam!"

Having just gotten out of his car, Rocky turned around when he heard his name called. More people were starting to call him by his real name. Sometimes it confused him, he'd gone by Rocky long enough.

Rocky grinned and threw his head up in a short nod when he spotted Jason leaning out the window of his car, idling in the street in front of the Douglas house. Rocky slammed his door shut and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder before taking long strides to meet him. He winced and brought a finger up to his ear, the loud music already starting to rattle his brain.

Jason grinned and lowered the volume of his stereo. "Hey man, what's up?"

"Another long night at the pizza parlor," Rocky replied. "What's up with you?" He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes as the summer breeze blew around him. "How'd you get out of your shift?"

The first week of summer was over and already he was ready to have some fun. He had a lot of shifts to work through, let alone getting the reading done for school, then going to spend more time with their grandfather to further their ninjitsu studies.

"There's a party over at Dalton's," Jason explained. "Emily and Laurie are already on their way over there. You coming or what?" The noise of the car suddenly silenced and Rocky smiled when Jason let out a low curse and started to turn the key in the ignition repeatedly. It clunked around but didn't turn over.

"Having a bad day, Jase?" Rocky sled with a chuckle.

"You don't know the half of it/ This piece of crap car is always breaking down and I can't get a new one without my job and I can't get to my job if the car keeps breaking down. And you and I both know that Lincoln is doing his best to cover for me until I can get there."

"You mean _I'm _covering for you," Rocky reminded him. Not that the extra money was so bad. At least he was stashing some of it away for his own purchases. "As for your car, you know your mom and dad will pay for it," Rocky pointed out. "They're like, what, the richest family in the city?"

"Tough talk coming from the son of an FBI agent."

"And yet I'm the one who is continuously taking over your shifts."

Jason's dark eyes roved towards him. A smirk was on his lips. "I'm telling you, dude, with all of those freaky ninja powers you've got going on, you could put on a side show and make whatever money you want. Instead of working at the pizza shop." He rolled his eyes. "But we all know Samuel Douglas Jr. would _never _want to show off like that, especially not for monetary gain. You know, other than to Emily or any other girl that grabbed his attention."

Now Rocky rolled his eyes.

He'd heard enough of it time and time again. How many times was it going to be thrown in his face? Not that it _really _upset him. It was more of a minor inconvenience. An irritating, minor inconvenience.

"Don't remind me," Rocky muttered. He let out a long breath, tilting his head back. He twisted his hat in his hands. "I still haven't decided whether or not I'm going to continue with my ninja training after this summer." He paused. "It's not that I don't _want_ to see grandpa, but I'm going to be eighteen soon what else can he teach me?"

As the words came from his mouth Rocky felt guilty. It was habitual now, all because he knew his reasons weren't entirely the truth. Every year he was asked if he would be going back to his grandfather's cabin he had to think long and hard about it. He loved martial arts and he loved learning the ways of the ninja, but he liked being able to hang out with his friends when he got the chance. Sometimes it was embarrassing to be seen hanging out with his grandfather so much, but the experiences he was exposed to were things he knew he'd never get anywhere else.

Besides, with college looming in the future it was only a matter of time that he would have to give it up, right? And it wasn't like he was turning his back on his grandfather, it was just growing up and moving on. He wouldn't be with his brothers much longer and they could decide what to do when the time came. Tum-Tum had asked him recently; if he would come back during his breaks from school to continue to practice ninja with him. The question had stopped Rocky in his tracks much like Jason's statement. So he decided to do what he always did when faced with the topic of conversation and his guilt.

He ignored it.

Restrained himself.

Put a pin in it to think about later.

"Coming from the guy that got in so much trouble when he was young," Jason replied, raising an eyebrow. "Now am I mistaken, or was it you and your brothers that helped that Indian reserve?"

"You're on the internet too much," Rocky said.

"It's not my fault the city likes to talk. And I didn't have to go on the internet for this one." Jason looked at him and Rocky looked back, his eyebrows rising.

"What are you talking about?" Rocky asked. He was already starting to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. A lot of people said he was so serious, so perceptive, but he was sure it was actually his ingenuity—or ninjanuity. He learned to understand and anticipate his surroundings and his surroundings. Even in front of his house, they were telling him that something was going on he didn't know about.

Something big.

"Nothing, man." Jason shook his head, looked away, did his best to appear as nonchalant as possible. A bright smile came to his face, looking at Rocky with wiggling eyebrows. "So, are you going to hook up with Emily, or…?"

"Why do you always have to smile at me when you do that?" Rocky shot him a slight scowl. "And, it's none of your business."

His and Emily's relationship had been and always would be a touchy subject with him. Not only had he dealt with years of teasing and sly smiles from his family, but everyone around him and Emily had always teased them about being together.

Did he like her?

Yes, he liked her a lot. She liked him, too. There was just something that was keeping them from trying things out. No, not 'something' they'd tried numerous times. She had always been a little bit more into him than he to her and they both knew it. She tried to push things forward but he'd always back away. Emily was nice and open with her feelings and always hinted that she really wanted to be Rocky's girlfriend but…honestly, he didn't know what it was that was stopping him.

Just that it didn't feel right.

And it was hard to figure out, especially when they would be leaving soon…

"Alert the media." Jason reached out and shoved Rocky's shoulder. "Everyone that thinks you two should get married will be very disappointed. Unless you're afraid that you won't get anything from her. I mean, you guys've known each other for how long?"

"Years," Rocky replied quickly. "And, again, my sex life is none of your business."

"Touchy, touchy." Jason flicked his black hair from his face. "One guy makes a joke and you freak. Didn't even know you had a sex life to joke about."

"Whatever." Rocky glanced back at his house then looked at Jason again, eyebrows coming together. He thought he saw some of the blinds wiggle back into place but couldn't be too sure. Maybe there was something in the air that night that was trying to get his attention. Something he couldn't quite shake. "You were saying something about the Indian Reservation?"

"Yeah, uh…" Jason snapped his fingers, trying to get the name back into his head. "That Jack Harding guy. He was released from prison today."

"What?" Rocky snapped his head towards his friend so fast that he heard something in his neck crack. "What did you just say?"

"You didn't know?" Jason's eyes widened in response to Rocky's sudden change in demeanor. Gone was the calm friend that he knew to rarely get riled up over anything, and now looked like he wanted to rip Jason's throat out. Calmly, of course. Blinking rapidly Jason continued, "It's been all over the news and in the newspapers…"

"I don't watch a lot of TV, you know that I'm too busy working," Rocky stated and then shook his head. When he focused his gaze on Jason once more, his blue-green eyes were ignited with a fire that Jason had never seen before. Otherwise his face appeared completely calm. It was kind of scary. "That doesn't matter, what are you talking about?"

"Hold on." Rifling through the numerous papers and fast food wrappers that festooned the stairwell of his car, Jason pulled out a folded newspaper. "It's from this morning-" He cried out as Rocky grabbed it from him. "Dude, paper cut!"

Rocky waved a hand at Jason, making a sound of exasperation and unfolded the newspaper. The heading jumped out at him.

_Harding Released from Prison._

Rocky's lips moved silently as he read the headline and then the article. A calm washed over him as he read. Jo…if she knew about it she was probably getting her entire tribe together to wage war. But what else could be done? Harding served his time and now he was out. What was the point of beating a dead horse? Besides, none of the criminals he and his brothers had faced over the years had been dumb enough to try and mess with them again. If anything else proved it, their adventures had lessened over the years.

What would be the point of starting again?

Jason shook his head, licked his lips. "Dude, I'm sorry. I thought you knew. I mean, I figured that you saw it or that Emily told you-"

"I have to get inside," Rocky interrupted. "Don't worry about this. I'm not." He slapped the newspaper against his palm. "I can't make it to the party but tell the others I said 'hi'."

Jason snorted. "Yeah, and leave me to hear Emily's 'I don't care that he's not here' spiel when we know she cares."

Rocky quickly defended his friend. "She just wants to hang out, Jase. Don't tease her like that. I'll see you later, alright?" He waited until Jason managed to turn on the car before turning and going into the house.

As soon as he set food over the threshold, Colt and Tum-Tum grabbed onto his arms and dragged him to Colt's room. As Rocky was shoved inside, Tum-Tum dropped to the floor. Colt ducked his head outside the door, looking up and down the hallway. Then he ducked back inside and closed the door, leaning against it. He regarded Rocky with an expression Rocky was surprised to see wasn't one of anger.

Then again, Colt really did manage to curb his anger over the years. It still popped up every now and then, sometimes a lot quicker than others, but it usually had to be something that _truly _bugged him to get him there. Of course, that didn't keep him from arguing with their father on a near daily basis.

"Rock," Colt breathed. "Did you hear?"

"If this guy is back, don't you think he's going to come after us?" Tum-Tum added. He had a Twizzler hanging out of the corner of his mouth wedged firmly in the corner. He started to pick at his fingernails. "If it were me, I think I would."

Rocky smiled a little. Even after going through a long bout with braces Tum-Tum wasn't able to give up his candy habit. He was smarter about his diet, now that he was on the wrestling team, but he couldn't completely kick his candy craving. As far as Rocky knew, Tum-Tum still had a jellybean stash somewhere. Rocky should've known stress would keep him chewing on the sugary stuff.

The eldest brother brought a hand up and rubbed his forehead, trying to think of the best response to the questions that had also crossed his mind. His first reaction was to calm his brothers down lest they jumped to conclusions—which was a habit that all of them seemed to have—and make things worse for themselves.

Rocky spoke slowly, "I don't think it's anything we need to freak out about. I mean, mom and dad haven't said anything either. They must have a good reason for it. This _is _dad we're talking about. It's his job to keep secrets. He can keep something that would be potentially upsetting a secret for a long time. Remember that time that Grandpa was in the hospital for a broken leg and he wouldn't tell us because he was afraid that we'd do something stupid?"

"Yeah, I remember." Tum-Tum snorted. "Colt_ did_ do something stupid. He skipped school just to go see how grandpa was doing and got caught."

"It's not my fault that I _just so happened _to have a calc test the same day." Colt smiled as he shrugged. But then his smile faded and he turned to Rocky, his blue eyes hardening. "So what are we going to do?" He crossed his arms, lips in a thin line as he waited for an answer.

Rocky looked at his feet, and then lifted his head, his blue-green eyes meeting his brother's. "Nothing," he said. "If Harding were smart he wouldn't try to get revenge or anything. He'd just lie low and live out the rest of his life." Rocky lifted an eyebrow. "I mean, he already lost all of his money, his assets, his companies…what else can he do?"

Colt grinned. "What all the other old guys do. Take up golf! With how angry he got after the hearing, I think he'd have a great swing." He and his brothers laughed at the idea of Jack Harding wearing golfing clothes complete with the big, floppy hat, and taking up the relaxing sport. "He'd probably use a shotgun for the club."

"Or a baseball bat," Tum-Tum said.

"Or a grenade for the ball." Rocky smirked.

The boys continued to laugh until their worries washed away. Good. That was good. It was Rocky's plan all along. The less they worried about it, when there was nothing to worry about, the better. Besides, it was his last summer before his senior year, there had to be at least _one _summer that could go by without it blowing up in his face. He winced, suddenly remembering his grenade joke. _Probably wasn't the best idea, _he thought.

"The same ol' Rocky," TumTum declared. He slowly shook his head back and forth. "He can never make a decision without having to think about _all_ of the facts." He rolled his eyes at Colt, who snickered beside him.

"Yeah, I bet he even takes that long to think about what topic he wants to write for his papers," Colt added. "And then has to get an extension because he waited too long to write it. It'd explain why he always freaks out about homework even though he always gets straight As."

Rocky lifted an eyebrow. He worked his ass for those As, thank you very much.

Colt laughed and nudged TumTum's shoulder. "C'mon, Tum, let's get dinner. That garlic smell is making me hungry."

"Right behind ya," TumTum agreed, never one to pass up on food.

An evil grin slowly stretched across Rocky's face as he watched his brothers walk away. "You're going to pay for that!"

He whipped two pillows off the bed and flung them at the back of his brother's heads then dove on top of them. The three laughed as they rolled around.

It was always easy for them to get their minds off things when they were together.

And over the years Rocky figured out the best way to do it was by beating them up. Though he always had to restrain himself from doing so, it didn't mean the thought never crossed his mind.


	2. Worries

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"So Rocky, how was work tonight?" Jessica Douglas asked her son as she set a bowl of steaming mashed potatoes in front of him. "You couldn't have come just to enjoy a home cooked meal. I thought I heard something about you going to a party," she added, patiently waiting for her sons to finish piling their plates with food before doing so herself.

She'd learned long ago to wait for her sons to go first, a broken finger wasn't fun to explain when it was your hungry sons that were the reason for it.

"It was alright," Rocky said with a shrug. "It got really slow towards the end so that was boring." He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "As for the party…" He lowered his gaze to his plate. "I didn't really feel like going." Especially not after hearing about Jack Harding.

"Oh, well, it seemed that Emily was really looking forward to it."

Colt kicked TumTum under the table and the two snickered at each other, making Rocky roll his eyes. They were about to go into their junior and sophomore years of school, respectively, he thought they would've grown up by then.

Instead or responding to their taunts, Rocky said, "I've got a lot of work I need to do," he said. "You know looking at colleges and stuff. Deciding my future…" he bobbed his head back and forth. "Trying to decide how much extra cash I should have on hand for the dorm laundry." He smiled at his mother's laughter and started to tap his fork against his plate. Knew it was the right move to change the subject. Rocky gazed to the head of the table where his father would usually be sitting. "Where's Dad?"

"He called and said that something came up at the office and that he would be late," Jessica replied. She shot a glare to TumTum, who was already halfway through his plate of food and reaching for some more. TumTum swallowed loudly and dropped his hands to his lap. He gave a sheepish smile, making the piece of broccoli stuck to the corner of his mouth bob as he did so.

Then she noticed the looks that Rocky an Colt exchanged as soon as the explanation left her lips. "What?"

_He's late? _Was the question the looks signified. For the last couple of years their father made sure to be home from work in time for dinner with the family. If it was something important that came up, it might have to do with Jack Harding. _But dad works for the FBI, he wouldn't need to handle something as small as Jack Harding, _Rocky reminded himself.

He and his father had that conversation shortly after the events of that summer. Sam had seen Rocky as old enough to learn some more things about his job. Not things that were classified, of course, but enough so he had a general grasp of the law and the judicial system. Sam explained how the cases the boys had been a part of over the years had very little chance of it coming back to haunt them. Snyder was in solitary confinement in a maximum security prison, Koga was in prison in Japan, Jack and Medusa were in prison as well. Or, at least for Jack, he _was. _But they were still a bunch of kids and if any of the tried to get revenge in any sort it was 1) pathetic and 2) very unlikely.

It had to be a coincidence, right?

"Nothing," Colt finally said, as convincing as possible. "How was your day, mom?"

Jessica blinked in surprise. Colt didn't usually ask her that, it was normally Rocky or TumTum who did. Rocky glanced at his younger brother, knowing there was a lot on his mind. Skepticism of Rocky's reassurances that everything was going to be okay. He was even starting to wonder about it, too, now that his mother mentioned his dad's absence. She slowly lowered her fork and knife to her plate. "What's going on?"

"Uh," Cold hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say. Finally, he gave a disarming smile. The same smile that seemed to make the knees of every girl around him go weak. A smile which Colt used to his advantage as much as possible, making Rocky laugh when thinking about how Colt used to despise any and all attention from girls. "Nothing, mom." He shifted nervously in his seat. "It's just…we wished that we could have dinner with Dad." He shrugged. "We wanted to talk to him, that's all."

"Oh really?" Jessica speared a piece of chicken and slid it into her mouth, chewing slowly. She stared hard at her middle son, almost daring him to lie to her. "About what?"

Colt hesitated once more and slid his eyes over to Rocky. Rocky gave him a hard look in response before lowering his gaze to his plate. Colt was a pretty good liar when the time came, but he was starting to see how serious their mother could be when she wanted the truth. By now Colt should've learned to keep his mouth shut, especially after Rocky had just told them not to say anything. The last thing he needed to worry about at this point was what Jack Harding was or wasn't doing. Or whether their mom needed to worry about them.

She probably knew something was off, Rocky realized. Women's intuition or something like that. Realistically, he knew she knew about Jack and wasn't saying anything to keep them calm. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared, just in case.

"Nothing, just guy stuff." Colt finally managed to reply, noticing that the silence had gone on longer than he intended it to. "You know. Dates and all that."

"Please," TumTum snorted. "What girl would want to go out with _you_?" Colt flicked his broccoli into TumTum's face in retaliation, sticking his tongue out as he did so. "Hey!" TumTum cried before flicking some back at him. Rocky just shook his head as he continued to eat.

It was the best distraction they could have and he wasn't going to argue with it.

"Boys, you're in high school now," Jessica reminded them patiently. "Can't we get through a dinner where you _don't_ act like children?"

"I don't know." Colt smirked. He spun his fork between his fingers, pretending to think. "It depends on my mood, really."

Jessica shook her head, accompanying it with an eye-roll; the reaction that Colt usually got for his acting out. He seemed to be getting it more now than he did when he was a kid. Having the ninja-name Colt, used for his fiery temper and wild spirit, seemed to grow even more as he grew up. He wasn't a trouble-maker by any means, not many people would say that. But everyone could see that his problem with authority figures continued to grow as he did.

It wasn't to say Colt didn't have a sense of maturity to him now. Colt restrained himself pretty well, but it was the consequences of that restraint that got him in trouble. He still became enraged pretty quickly, but now that he tried to hold it back—what came with his easy-going attitude of everything around him—it was like a flash bomb went off when he let loose. Still, he grew up to have his own friends and to join in on other school activities. He took playing the guitar very seriously and even seemed to be changing his mind about singing in the choir to work on his vocal skills.

TumTum, on the other hand, still had a freshman mentality even though he'd be going into his sophomore year of high school soon. He was sort of shy around girls, even though there was one he had his eye on since the year before, and hung out with his friends as much as possible, getting into almost every amount of trouble that young teenage boys could. But he grew a sense of responsibility with his spot on the wrestling team; taking his new diet very seriously, though he did continue to gorge on candy when he had the chance.

The four of them continued to eat dinner quietly. That was normal, though. Things only seemed to get _really_ lively when Sam was around. The silence was shattered, making Rocky jump, when TumTum pushed his chair back and sprinted from the dining room. Rocky heard the front door close and realized their father had just gotten home. Jessica got up to go greet her husband and Rocky leaned back in his chair to look at Colt.

_Here we go, _was the feeling that moved between them when Colt looked back at him_._

The two brothers waited as their mother's, father's, and brother's voices drew closer. Colt looked up and greeted his father with a short "hey" as he slipped through the doorway. Rocky shook his head. Of course Colt wasn't over the disagreement they'd gotten in earlier that morning.

"Hey Colt," Sam replied with a pained smile. When he noticed Rocky, he gave a start and then his pained smile widened, almost to a grimace. "Rocky, good to see you joining us for dinner this time." Rocky stood up and quickly shook his father's hand. They'd given up hugging years ago.

"Yeah, well, I needed the extra money," Rocky explained. Then he ran a hand through his hair and glanced at his father out of the corner of his eye. He could see there was something there, something in the expression on his face that he wasn't telling the boys.

He knew about Jack Harding.

Rocky's anxiety immediately flared.

"How was it tonight?"

"Fine," Rocky said.

Sam took his seat at the head of the table and started to filled his plate. "That's great," Sam flashed him a smile as he flapped open his napkin and tucked it into his shirt collar. "That's great." Sam smiled at his wife and she smiled in return, seemingly not noticing the tension that had filled the room in the past few seconds.

TumTum's eyebrows furrowed together as he looked back and forth between Rocky and his father. Rocky lightly waved a hand, letting him know not to worry about it and that he could deal with it himself. TumTum looked affronted—always the youngest and being treated like it—but nodded.

"Hey Dad?" Rocky cleared his throat, waited for his father to look at him to prove he had his attention. "Did anything interesting happen at work today? 'Cause I heard—"

"Great chicken, Jessica." Sam interrupted, abruptly turning to his wife. The sudden movement startling her, making her jump so hard her fork flung bit of food across the table to Colt. "It really is delicious."

"Oh," Jessica blushed a little. "Thank you, honey." Then she turned and patted her middle son's wrist. "I'm sorry, Colt."

"It's alright, mom, don't worry." Colt looked over at Rocky and shrugged. Rocky rested his cheek in his hand, shaking his head in return.

Clearly, Rocky wasn't going to be able to talk to his father that night, but he would talk to him about what was going on even if it killed him. There was no point in trying to ignore what was going on. Rocky was old enough to know, Sam was probably just trying to keep his family from freaking out. Or else he was still trying to wrap his head around everything himself.

The rest of dinner moved along quietly, TumTum ate so fast, he leapt up and raced away from the table as soon as he was done. The rest of the family, who ate at a normal pace, finished twenty minutes later. Tired from the long shift that night, Rocky immediately took a shower and brushed his teeth. Then he needed to get started on the summer reading he'd put off so far. He stood at the sink, brushing his teeth when he heard his parent's low voice drifting from their room. It didn't take a genius to know what they were talking about.

_The FBI always has something up their sleeve to make sure that people are safe. _Rocky thought to himself. Even he had to roll his eyes a little bit at that one, his reflection in the mirror mimicking his movement. _Yeah, right._

* * *

Rocky gritted his teeth as his truck rapidly rocked back and forth, traversing over the rocky path that led to their grandfather's cabin. "Rocky, could you watch where you're going?" Colt asked from the passenger seat. He white knuckled the door handle every time there was an exceptionally hard bump. "I'd like to make it to at least twenty before you kill me."

"Yeah, yeah," Rocky grumbled.

He was seconds away from saying something about Grandpa not paving the stupid trail but decided against it. It would just bring up what they all knew. He was getting old. Rocky was old enough to realize that. Colt and TumTum seemed not to notice. They acted like their grandfather would live forever when it was far from the truth.

"What are we going to do about Dad?" TumTum asked, leaning in from the backseat. He noisily chewed gum, making Rocky and Colt lean away from each other so that his spittle didn't land on them. "He didn't say anything when we tried to ask."

"We know he knows about Harding," Colt agreed. "But he's acting like as soon as he admits it we're going to be shot as soon as we walk out the front door." He bobbed his head back and forth in thought. "Honestly, I'm surprised it hasn't happened yet."

Rocky shot him a warning look, but smiled as well. He'd had the same thought once before. So much so he'd had a short time of paranoia that made him jump at every slight sound. _It's like dad said, _Rocky reminded himself. _Any of these guys getting revenge would be incredibly moronic._

"Dad's just worried about us, you know that," Rocky replied patiently. "I mean, our track record was never really that great in the first place. If we're being honest."

"It's not like we couldn't take him anyway," TumTum said with a proud smile. He blew a bubble and popped it, noisily sucking it back into his mouth. Rocky felt his stomach lurch a few inches to the left and swallowed hard. "We took out nearly all of his guys before and we can do it again."

"You're forgetting that it was Jo's dad that really did it," Colt reminded him. Then he frowned. "You think Grandpa knows?"

"Why? Do you expect another lecture?" TumTum reached out and flicked Colt on the ear, making Colt shoot up his hand and smack his little brother back away from him.

"By now, probably," Rocky said shortly.

"I wonder if-"

"Look." Rocky sighed, grabbing his brothers' attention. "There's no point in playing the 'what if' game now, since Dad's not letting us talk to him about this. For now, we should just wait to see what happens and not bother him about it. If nothing happens, cool. If it does, then we'll figure it out."

"And if that doesn't work?" Colt prompted with a snort.

"Then we'll deal with it on our own," Rocky replied simply. "Like we had to before."

"Yeah, whatever." Colt crossed his arms over his chest, cracking his knuckles. He was silent for a few moment before the expression on his face changed to a mischievous smirk. "Aren't you going to tell us what you and Emily were whispering about on the phone last night?" he teased. "I know we have our own rooms, but it' not like we don't know when you're trying to hide something."

"Yeah, are you going to tell your girlfriend you _love _her?" TumTum added and laughed along with his older brother.

Rocky shook his head but didn't reply. He thought about questioning Colt about Jo, but decided against it. There was no point in going down the rabbit hole of Jack Harding even further than they already had. Rocky's worries eased the moment he saw their grandfather's cabin come in view. Mori Tanaka quietly shuffled back and forth in front of the bushes, watering the flowers that were neatly trimmed. He turned awhen Rocky honked the horn and smiled. He lifted his hand in a jerky wave before turning to put down the watering can.

Hearing the door open, Rocky yelped and slammed his foot on the brakes, stopping in time to keep from running over TumTum, who sprinted to greet their grandfather. "You should've just ran him over and told mom it was an accident," Colt said with a laugh. He opened the door and climbed out as well.

Rocky let out a deep breath, turning off the car. He leaned back in his seat and watched his grandfather greet Colt and TumTum enthusiastically. He seemed shorter if that were possible. Certainly, much frailer than he had been before. Rocky could even see some new gray hairs had sprouted in what was left of his grandfather's hair. And yet, he still held the grace and silent power of one that had mastered the art of ninjitsu over the span of his life.

_It's too bad this may be the last time I see him, _Rocky thought.

Going off to college was one thing, not knowing how much time he had left to when he was gone was another. It just made it that much harder to know this was going to be his last summer practicing ninja. Once he finished high school he'd be…well, he wasn't quite sure yet. There were a lot of decisions he still needed to make, and the hardest one was to give up his practice. The year before, he'd waited until Colt and TumTum were asleep before bringing up the conversation with his grandfather.

And Mori had been very receptive to it, understanding it was time for Rocky to move on and to see what the future held. A part of him was glad to grow up but there was an even bigger part of him that was sad to see it all ending. Now, looking at his grandfather, he was starting to regret the decision.

"Rocky, are you going to come say 'hi' to grandpa or what?" Colt demanded.

Colt's voice, louder than Rocky'd ever heard it, brought Rocky from his thoughts and back to the present. He nodded back to his brother and left his truck. Mori smiled and reached out for his grandson, one of the biggest smile on his face.

"Hi, Rocky," he greeted in that familiar, quivering yet strong voice.

"Hey grandpa." Rocky wrapped his arms around his grandfather to hug him. He felt his arms move further than they had before until he was in the hugging position. His grandfather had gotten smaller, Rocky could see that now. And yet he was as sturdy as ever, giving one of the strongest of hugs.

"It's good to see you," Mori said.

Rocky leaned back and smiled down at his grandfather. "It's good to see you, too," he said honestly.

* * *

Jack Harding paced the floor of his apartment. It was small, much smaller than it he'd been used to. He was in LA, he should've had the best penthouse in the entire city, not one filled with cockroaches and whatever vermin were infesting the walls. It was the only place he could use with his assets being frozen, what was left of his assets anyway.

He'd needed to get a handle on that. His men were already starting to work for him again, to get everything he needed. There was so much that needed to be done, so much people didn't realize was being done when he was incarcerated. Just because he was in prison didn't mean he was completely cut off from society. There were enough people who saw what he was doing and thought it was a good idea, a good way for power…and what Jack Harding worked well with was power.

And it had all been stripped away because of those stupid kids that wouldn't leave things alone. So what if a few of those Native Americans had been killed? It wasn't a direct correlation from the toxic waste that was being dumped. He got charged on a technicality.

"A damn technicality," Jack muttered. He glanced at his watch. "Where is that fucker?" he muttered under his breath. "He should've been here by now."

As soon as the words escaped his lips there was a conspiratory knock on the door. Jack whipped around to face it, looking at his watch once more. Still late, he'd pay for it later. Jack stormed to the door and ripped the door open so hard and fast it nearly ripped from its hinges.

"You're late!" He barked.

"I had to make sure the coast was clear," The man replied. "You know you've got police monitoring you."

"Fuck the police, I've got better things to worry about," Jack snapped. "I've got to get my business back up and running! Do you have it or not?"

The man nodded and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, producing a thick envelope. He handed it over to Jack and Jack quickly snapped it from him. He turned it on the side and looked inside, moving his thumb over the wad of bills that rested inside. Satisfied, Jack smiled and nodded. He let out an excited laugh and backed into the apartment, taking a box out from beneath the sink. He walked it back over to the man and shoved it into his hands

"This is going to be perfect," Jack said. "We're going to be rich."

"We better be," the man said before leaving the apartment.

Jack closed the door behind him and went to the living room. He upended the envelope, more than willing to count each bill inside. Oh yes, this was going to be perfect. It was going to make his revenge that much sweeter. To be able to hear the screams of those three boys that had wronged him before.

All he had to do was wait for the right time.


	3. Decisions

**Chapter Three**

* * *

Rocky sucked in a deep breath, closed his eyes. Listened to everything around him. Listened as the leaves on the trees blew, rustling gently. Listened as the weaker twigs snapped. Listened as squirrels and birds within the forest poked around, knocking acorns and branches off and to the ground. Listened hard, to see if he could figure out where his grandfather was going to end up.

Finding his brothers was easy, he knew exactly what to expect from them. Tum-Tum, as much as he'd matured over the years, was still very much naïve and equally obvious about his movements. He was easily distracted if anything suddenly moved around him. But tricky. Rocky was surprised and impressed with everything Tum-Tum managed to learn and use to his advantage when the time came. Handfuls of sand thrown into the air, making it seem like he tripped over thin air when he was one of the more coordinated people anyone knew—thanks in part to his ninja abilities, acting like he was too hurt. Colt, on the other hand, as skilled as he'd become with his ninja training, Rocky knew he was coming due to the wind that'd surge around his punch and kick, his swift movements.

And yet, Colt was still harder to determine than Tum-Tum, simply due to his new way of using his power and wild spirit. He was still wild with his movements, but only when he became frustrated of not winning quicker than he'd anticipated. When Colt was on his A-Game, he was a force to be reckoned with, beating Rocky almost as much as Rocky managing to eek out a win.

_Still, they're not grandpa._

Their grandfather taught them everything they knew about being a ninja, but not everything he knew. A point that Rocky found to be true as he continued to listen, waiting for his grandfather's footsteps. A last-ditch effort to win, after having his ass handed to him without their grandfather even breaking a sweat. He was getting up there in years, but Mori Tanaka was nothing short of skilled in his ninja abilities.

The strike he'd gotten against Rocky's chest still thumped with Rocky's heartbeat. A stark warning that he wasn't as old as he looked. That beneath the age that'd come over him over the years, he was still a force to be reckoned with. The bruise on the back of the neck, where Mori had gotten a straight karate-chop to Rocky when his back was turned, was certainly proof of that.

"Come on, Rock," Colt cheered from somewhere nearby.

"Are you just going to stand there all day? Or what?" Tum-Tum asked. Rocky heard a low shuffling sound of leaves, could picture his youngest brother leaning back, resting his hands on the ground behind him. "I'm getting hungry."

"You're _always _hungry, Tum," Colt pointed out.

"Still."

Rocky's eyelashes fluttered. Eyelids twitched. He worked to push his brother's voices to the back of his mind. Worked to keep focused. That was the point in his own personal training, his namesake. Rocky. Cool and solid as granite rock. Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus.

How hard could it be to find his grandfather? Even posing the innocent question in his head, Rocky couldn't help but smile a little. It was a naïve thought. How hard could it be? If he ever were to defeat his grandfather, that would be a feat in and of itself. Then, Rocky would have nothing left to learn from him.

Mori was a grand master of sorts. Rocky was never quite sure how high of a level his black belt was, or even the sort of training he did. Mori was very private and made sure that along with ninja skills, he taught his grandchildren life lessons as well. Not just to them, but to others. Even going so far as to train their friend Amanda, shortly before she moved away, as well as having had trained and worked alongside Hugo Snyder once upon a time.

There was a point where Rocky remembered the shock and fear he felt, seeing the same fighting style being taught to a horde of ninjas on that battleship when he had been kidnapped from his home all because Snyder wanted revenge on his grandfather and father from discretions years before. How surprised he was to see the familiar kata and fluidlike movements thought Snyder's henchmen.

He held out hope the entire time he and his brothers worked their way off the ship and he wasn't disappointed. But, there had been a fleeting moment where he thought it was true. That his grandfather had turned on them.

"In every moment, there's always more than meets the eye," Mori always reminded them.

Rocky's eyes twitched once more. _That's it. _He shot his eyes open and fell into a fighting stance. He couldn't believe it took him so long to figure it out. To realize that his grandfather's words were be to taken seriously. Just because it looked like he disappeared right before his very eyes…

Rocky ducked, just as he heard a shout from behind him. His grandfather flew overhead, foot outstretched, seconds away from knocking Rocky's head clear off his shoulders had he gotten the chance. He landed back in a low crouch and turned around, moving to kick Rocky in the face. Rocky brought up his hands, grabbing Mori's foot and threw him. Mori flipped backwards, landing on his feet.

Then, in a flurry of movements, sent seven spinning kicks toward Rocky, this time forcing his eldest grandson to slowly inch backwards with each forward momentum.

Whoosh.

Whoosh.

Whoosh.

The air blew by Rocky's face, narrowly avoiding getting hit by his foot each time. Rocky flung himself backwards to the ground, his grandfather flying overhead. He brought his hands up above his shoulders and rested on the ground behind him. Rolling backwards, Rocky placed all his muscle power on his shoulders and flung himself up and out in a kip-up. He turned around, fists by his face, to receive a palm thrust directly to his nose.

"Ah!" Rocky grabbed his face.

Mori reached out and grabbed Rocky's wrist. With a simple flick of his hands, he twisted Rocky around and flat on his back on the ground, making a grunt escape Rocky's lips. Mori stood over him for a long moment, his squinted eyes the only part visible behind his black gi before he backed away. Rocky sighed, dropping his head back to the ground, his grandfather backing away from him. Mori laughed a hearty laugh, holding out his hand toward Rocky, who took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

Rocky brushed off the seat of his pants, pressed his palms to his thighs, body ramrod straight, and bowed to his grandfather who, still chuckling, bowed back.

"I almost had you this time, grandpa," Rocky said with a grin.

Mori shook his head. "The day you beat me is the day I have nothing left to teach you," he warned his eldest grandson. He lifted his hand and wiggled his finger back and forth. A 'tsk' motion to shame him. "It's not time for you to beat me, yet. There's more to life than trying to defeat your old grandfather."

"No, there's not," Colt piped up. He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head. "We're not going to stop until we beat you."

"Yeah, no matter how long it takes," Tum-Tum added. "One day, the three of us will stop you."

Mori's chuckles slowly subsided. He glanced at Rocky, pensive, his jovial expression unchanging. Rocky looked back at him, unsure of what he was going to say. He remembered when they had their conversation, Rocky hadn't been sure how to bring it up, but Mori always knew when there was something wrong with his grandchildren. Even in ways their parents would never understand. That was the point of being a grandparent wasn't it? To spoil and be there for them in nonjudgmental ways that he knew his parents never could be.

_"Is there something on your mind, Rocky?"_

_Rocky looked away from the novel he was reading, stretched across the couch in his grandfather's living room. While startled, he wasn't quite surprised to see his grandfather standing by the end of the couch, dressed in his robe and eyeing Rocky warily. Rocky shook his head, tapping the corner of book, ruffling the pages. "No, nothing's on my mind."  
_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_Mori shuffled to the armchair beside Rocky and lowered himself down, letting out a grunt as he did so. Rocky watched carefully. His grandfather let out a long sigh, allowing his body to fall within the cushioning of the chair. He waited patiently. There was no point in rushing him, when Mori spoke, everyone listened. Rocky tried not to think about the time his father refused to listen to his father-in-law-'s 'ninja talk' waving it off impatiently._

_"I mean, your mind hasn't been on your training," Mori continued. He looked his eldest grandson in the eye. "I understand that things are going to be difficult for you in the coming years. You're going to be starting your last year of high school, figuring out what you're going to be doing for college. It's a troubling time in a young ninja's life."_

_Rocky shook his head, setting his book aside. "It's not so troubling, grandpa, I'm not worried."_

_Mori's eyes narrowed. "Do you remember the lesson I taught you about the flowers?"_

_A grin came to Rocky's face. He enjoyed hearing about the uses of the flowers within Jo's Cree tribe, enjoyed watching the healer of the tribe use them to create an antidote to those that had been poisoned by Jack Harding's dumpings on their land. Though it had been for a sad occasion, it really had been terrible to see how sick Jo's people were becoming, Rocky had a special place in his heart for the healers of the tribe. Some spiritual connection he couldn't quite place. (He still went to visit them when he had the chance). It had been the healer who helped him start to understand what the lesson meant; don't be a show-off. Let your work speak for itself. Don't go looking for the glory of your actions._

_"How could I forget?"_

_"Is that something you feel you've had to revisit as of late?"_

_Rocky's eyebrows furrowed together. "What do you mean?"_

_"I can't help but notice you've been holding back as of late. Almost as if you don't want to progress anymore than you already have. You're a good ninja, Rocky. You can be even better. I'd hoped one day you could take over the training from me and help your brothers." A smile pulled at his lips. "As much as they'd enjoy that."_

_"Yeah," Rocky agreed flatly. "They wouldn't."_

_"I understand the unknown can be a daunting thought. There are many ways to go, many paths that can be taken. Soon you may not continue with your ninja training, may not be by your brothers' side. Everything that you've ever known will change. But now is not the time for you to worry about such trivialities."_

_"Didn't you ever have to think about it?" Rocky asked, resting his hands in his lap. He played with his fingers. "Did you ever have to choose between everything you've loved to do."_

_"Why do you feel the need to make a choice? Why can't you have it all?"_

True to form, Mori took that moment to bid himself to bed, placing his hand atop Rocky's head as he passed by. Just as the Cree woman had done. And, much like that moment in the field of flowers, Rocky had left the conversation more confused than how he went in. Now, as he watched his grandfather, he was reminded of the main thing he was trying to avoid thinking about as the summer came to an end.

Senior year.

Graduating.

Not being around anymore.

"I gladly wait for that day," Mori remarked. He motioned for his grandsons to follow him, wiggling his fingers as he did so. Tum-Tum hurried to grab his cane and handed it to him before gently grabbing his arm, walking along with him up the path to the cabin. Rocky and Colt fell in step behind them, strolling casually.

"Hate to admit it," Colt said. He heaved a heavy sigh. "And I _really _hate to admit this, but Rocky really was close to getting you." He patted his eldest brother on the shoulder. "If you had my help, we really would've taken him down." The corner of Rocky's lips pulled back. Leave it to Colt to give a backhanded compliment. "It's going to come soon, grandpa, just you wait."

"Tell you what; the day you manage to defeat Rocky in a fight..." Mori started.

Tum-Tum groaned. "But we'll _never _beat him in a fight."

"Never say never," Mori reprimanded.

"He's been training longer than we have. He knows more than we do."

"I'm not that good," Rocky said quickly, embarrassment making his cheeks flush. Not that he didn't believe in his own abilities, but to stave off what was inevitably coming. He saw the look in Colt's eyes, saw the way his shoulders hunched and hands clenched into fists. Knew what was coming next and dreaded every second of it.

"Yeah, right," Colt spat. He rolled his eyes. "Why else would _you _have to be the one we have to beat first?" He then muttered something under his breath that Rocky couldn't quite hear, but didn't need to. Knew it had something to do with being a showoff, being 'perfect' or being the 'golden child' in some way. Not like Rocky didn't have his own things to be annoyed about, like Colt and Tum-Tum not having to follow the rules that were placed on him when growing up.

Rocky couldn't get over the injustice of being able to hang out with friends without a chaperone much younger than when he was allowed to. And that didn't include going to the movies, their curfews, and when they were first allowed to start going on dates. Just another point of growing up, he supposed.

But who said they had to grow up so fast? There were things he still held onto from his childhood, hanging out with his brothers being one of them. As annoying as it could be to have them around at times, especially as they were all only a year apart consecutively, they were still some of the best friends he'd ever had. No one else had been through what he did, it was a part of his life he didn't have to hide.

Rocky would never tell them that, though. It'd just have Tum-Tum insist to hang around him and his friends more and that was the last thing he wanted, to be even more of a babysitter as he had been over the years. He needed his space and, finally, he was getting it. And his relationship with Colt had certainly gotten better. Colt didn't constantly look up at him with disdain over trying to parent him or 'be like dad'. Once they got on the same page they hung out together more so than they'd ever had. Their friend groups mixed together every now and then though they did keep to themselves at times. Rocky could only ask for small favors and the cut-off date keeping them from being in the same grade was one of them.

"To prepare you for an even greater challenge," Mori said mysteriously.

The words immediately broke Rocky out of his thoughts.

At once, all three boys stopped walking and exchanged glances. Were back on the same team as they wondered what their grandfather was keeping from them. There were a lot of things he could've been saying. Maybe he was opening a new ninja school and wanted them to help teach. Maybe he was taking on more ninja students. Maybe their father was going to start ninja training as well.

Rocky tried not to laugh at the thought of their father trying any ninja training. Even their mother doing it was easier to imagine, she did grow up with a father whose business was ninja schools and who couldn't wait for any grandchildren to teach things to. As far as he knew, his mother knew enough self-defense to pull out when needed and she'd done it only once, when he and his brothers were young. And it was all she'd ever say about it.

Mori led them into the house and to the kitchen, where Tum-Tum grabbed the fruit bowl that sat in the center and pulled it toward him, picking out the bruised pieces for something fresh. He chomped loudly into an apple while Mori eased himself into his seat at the head of the table, Rocky and Colt directly to his left and right and Tum-Tum in front of him. Colt helped him down before taking his cane and setting it aside.

Clasping his hands together, Mori rested them on the table top and looked each of his grandsons in the eye. "As I've said before, you're coming close to a time where there's not much more for me to teach you. But the greatest way to learn lessons is through life. You're growing older and there are going to be many challenges that will come your way that I hope my training will help you traverse."

Tum-Tum's chewing was the only sound that broke the silence. The three boys watched their grandfather closely, with rapt attention. Whatever he had to say was big.

"I've entered you in a ninja competition-"

Mori didn't get to say any more than that before whooping and a barrage of questions came from Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum. Tum-Tum's eyes widened, he inhaled so sharply that a wedge of apple shot down his throat and he started choking. Colt slapped his hands on the tabletop, a grin spreading across his face, one that matched Rocky's evenly.

"A ninja competition?" Colt asked. "Wait, like a real one?"

"We're going to face off against other ninjas?"

"Are going back to Japan?" Tum-Tum asked when he finally stopped choking. "There was some sushi I didn't get to try last time."

Rocky and Colt both rolled their eyes at the question. Of course, Tum-Tum would completely miss the point of the news. Not to mention, it was clear he hadn't learned his lesson from training to be a Sumo Wrestler while staying in the land of the rising sun. Mori _and _Sam had a lot to say about the food bill that had come to them after a layover in airport.

"There is a ninja tournament that is going to be held in a few weeks," Mori explained. "Until then you will train to be in stop shape. The ninjas that will be there will be some of the best and brightest you could come up against. It will be a humbling experience, but an experience you'll never forget."

Colt snorted. "Humbling? No one can touch us," he boasted. Even Rocky couldn't help but let his own arrogance get to him as he made a sound of approval and clapped his palm against Colt's. "We'll make you proud, grandpa."

Mori smiled at his grandsons in turn. "You always make me proud," he said. "Just like I'm sure you will at this tournament."

Colt rested his chin in his hand, giving his grandfather a smug smile. "We're not going to be attacked for a dagger or anything while we're there, are we?"

"Only if you win, Colt," Mori joked back. "Only if you win."

Rocky smiled. A ninja tournament? It was the first time his grandfather ever let them enter one; an early lesson to not use their abilities for glory or fame. A part of him wondered what it was that made him change his mind. But a part of him understood it as well. Rocky glanced at his grandfather and smiled serenely.

He wasn't the only one coming to a point in his life where, no matter what decision on the future was made, things were going to change.


	4. The Tribe Remembers

**Chapter Four**

* * *

Rocky turned off the ignition to his truck. This time, thankfully, he didn't have to shout at Tum-Tum for careening out of the car. Even Colt, who enjoyed nothing more than to hang around with the horses on the reservation, was calm as he exited Rocky's truck.

Whether it was because they were on the sacred land of the Cree tribe or because Jo Lightning was waiting quietly for them, Rocky wasn't sure. As it was, he couldn't help but look curiously at Colt whenever they were around their friend. Not that he thought Colt was immature by any means—on a good day, anyway—Rocky was pleasantly surprised to see how maturely Colt had handled his and Jo's relationship and consequent breakup. Not that it was a big thing, Jo and Colt hadn't dated for too long. It Colt forever to even admit he liked her despite how obvious it was to anyone who saw them interact.

Rocky still remembered the mortification that flashed over Colt's face the first time he mumbled across the dinner table that he wanted to hang out with Jo and go to the movies on the weekend…to which their mother stated he needed a chaperone and that she and their father would go with them. They were twelve years old, younger than Rocky was when he was first allowed to start dating. But he could only ask for small favors, he never had his parents follow him on a date.

And being able to ask Colt about it and rub it in his face later was something Rocky wouldn't get over anytime soon.

This time, however, Colt seemed uneasy as he looked towards Jo, watching her approach. She, as always, had a cheerful smile on her face, waving to the three friends as she met them. Being honorary members of their tribe, they were always welcome on the reserve, but preferred Jo as their escort when they did. Not wanting to be offensive in any way.

"Hi guys," Jo greeted them, finally coming in ear shot.

"Hey, Jo," Colt replied. He smiled as Jo leaned over and gave each brother a hug in greeting. Then he flicked his hair from his face, growing serious. "How's everything going?"

Jo's smile waned only slightly. "As well as you could expect," she replied. Motioning with her hand, she turned and led the way into the center of the reservation. And they kept going, heading toward the main building on the reserve. As they walked by members of the Cree tribe, multiple people would stop and nod to them, smiling as they passed.

Rocky's eyes swept over the reserve, watching as, in the distance, the older woman worked in the fields of flowers. Plucking the flowers from the ground and plucking off the petals. Of which the petals would be put into one basket and the stems placed in another. Grandmother Ingen, the same woman Rocky had spoken to about the flowers and what they were used for in their medicines, knelt on the ground at the head of the group, eyes closed, and face turned towards the sun.

As if she had known Rocky was watching her, she lowered her chin and locked eyes with him. He smiled back and nodded, making her nod and lift her hand in greeting, as if patting him on the head once more. He felt a twinge of sadness, seeing how much older she'd gotten as well. How he knew there wasn't much time for her, just like his grandpa.

"'What do everyone here have to say about Jack Harding being back around?" Colt asked as they continued to follow Jo.

Jo sucked in a deep breath, her eyebrows rising. "Well, there are many who are already starting to protest," She explained. She nodded to a caravan of trucks that sped out of the reservation. "That's where they're going now. They're going to the prisons to appeal for an overturn of his conviction."

"That's not going to make any difference," Tum-Tum commented. He seemed so sure for a moment, then turned to Rocky with a worried glance. "Is it, Rocky?"

"No," Rocky admitted. "Once he's fulfilled his sentence, he's not going to go back." Jo turned her gaze to him. "Not unless they find a new way to convict him. He's already fulfilled his sentencing for the illegal dumping he's done. But…" he trailed off.

That was the part they didn't talk about. That Jack Harding was never convicted of the murders the dumping of illegal chemicals caused. "Insufficient evidence," it was found. "Coincidence's," Jack's lawyer team had said. And they were very persuasive about the whole thing. They fought and argued hard, pointing out that the infants and the older adults that had passed were the ones who were more likely to pass soon anyway. Even when tests confirmed there were those that had been affected by the chemicals, Jack's team had then pointed out that their want to protest near their facilities was what caused their bodies to meet those harmful chemicals.

There was nothing else that could be said about it. Families of victims and witnesses, may from the tribe spoke during the trial to showcase how it had affected them. And yet, Jack's tea, that he had spent the last of his assets on, got him off the charges of murder.

"Double jeopardy is a thing and unless they have absolute proof that they can say Harding was the reason for all those deaths—" Rocky immediately cut off when Jo whipped a harsh glare his way.

Colt reached out and grasped Jo's shoulder. "Jo, we're on your side," he reminded her. "But we can't worry about that right now. Not something that we might not be able to change. We need to worry about you guys and what's going to happen now that Harding has been released from prison."

Jo nodded. "Chief Roundcreek wanted to see you," she finally said. "That's why I asked you to come today."

Colt flashed a charming smile. "Well, we're happy to come see you when we can if you're just dying to know," he teased. A call back to the statement filled with jealousy he couldn't help but utter when he came to terms with how he felt about her. Even now Rocky couldn't help but roll his eyes.

Beside him, Tum-Tum snickered and covered it with a cough before ripping open the wrapper of a Snicker's candy bar. A failure to use noise to mask his laughter towards his older brother. Nevertheless, Colt's comment made the stress release from Jo's shoulders as she chuckled.

"How are you?" She asked him. Then looked at Rocky and Tum-Tum as well. That was something Rocky could always give her credit for, she cared about nature and the lives of others around her so much. She was one of the truly selfless people he'd ever met. "And you guys, too? How are you handling all of this?"

"The same way we handle everything else," Colt said, putting on a sense of false bravado. Rocky made a face and looked at Colt. Colt turned his head and looked at Rocky out of the corner of his eye, gently shaking his head. Rock got the message loud and clear. Don't worry her any more than she has to. Not until they got the rest of the facts.

Wow, they could really be like their father when they didn't want to.

"By running in without thinking of the danger you're putting yourselves in?" Jo teased. "That sounds a lot like you."

"What can we say?" Tum-Tum shrugged, taking in Colt's sense of false bravado. "We like to do what we can when we can do it. And we do it well."

Rocky couldn't help but laugh at Tum-Tum's statement. The chocolate smeared around his mouth from his melting Snicker's bar didn't so much to back up his words. And while Rocky was able to see the humor in the situation, he was also realistic about everything. Needed to get the full facts, had to have all the information before he could react to something.

Was always calm, cool, and collected. The one who needed to take some time before making decisions and was usually hailed for it. When it came to Harding, he was as worried as his brothers and Jo but at the same time…he hadn't done anything. He was released and immediately disappeared. Parole was never something he'd been saddled with, he didn't have anyone that needed to report to certain days of the week. He could live his life the way he wanted to.

If the city didn't care about what was going on with Harding and the Indian Reserve before, they didn't care much now. One article in the newspaper for a day and then it was old news, as was everything else. Rocky pushed the thought away as the four headed into the air-conditioned building with the low sloped ceiling. Very similar to one of the cabins they used to get 'ready for war' when they first were going after Jack's henchmen to free her father.

Rocky was pleasantly surprised when they boys went inside and saw not only Chief Roundcreek but Jo's mother and father, Selina and Charlie Lightning with him as well. The three smiled warmly at the boys, with Charlie shaking each of their hands and Selina hugging them firmly once seeing them. Then Chief Roundcreek walked to the boys, feather in hand, and shook it over each of their heads, just as he had done when they became honorary members of the reservation.

"It is good to see you again," Chief Roundcreek said. He sucked in a deep breath, folding his arms. "I just wish it wasn't under such harsh circumstances."

Rocky nodded. "You heard then?"

The side of his lips turned up. "Just because we prefer to stay to ourselves doesn't mean we're entirely cut off from the world," Chief Roundcreek gently admonished.

Rocky blushed. "No, uh, I didn't mean…"

"It's alright, Rocky, he knows what you meant," Selina broke in. She smoothed her palms down the sides of her long skirt. "We knew one day Jack was going to be released from prison and we've come to terms with it as the years have passed."

"And yet, there is still the pain that runs deep through our blood, through our veins, and through the very Earth we stand on," Charlie explained. His upper lip curled in disgust. "We had to sit back and watch the oldest and the youngest of our tribes be taken down by illness that Harding had inflicted upon our land." He shook his head. "I can only say I wasn't too upset when the industrialism through Los Angeles went on a decline with Harding's company folding."

"We can only hope that he doesn't continue with his practices now that he's out," Selina said. She sighed, reaching out to place her hands on Jo's shoulders. "The biggest fear I had during that time was losing my family because of what he was dumping on our land and how he was taking advantage of us and our presence here. It's why I hated having Jo out there protesting with us when I knew the sort of danger it was putting her in."

"You wouldn't have been able to stop me, mom," Jo reminded her.

"We know," Charlie agreed. He patted his daughter on the head, making her smile. "And it's what we love about you. And why we know you've made a good choice in friends," he motioned to Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum, who all smiled bashfully. Another reminder of the life they tried not to brag about.

All the praise…

"We understand you were affected by the events we went through years ago," Chief Roundcreek explained. "As much as you were a part of what made things better for us. But it also came to my attention that you didn't take all the credit for it. It is why I made you honorary members of our tribe and why we put all our faith into you. So, you can understand the concerns we're bringing up to you."

Rocky cleared his throat. "There isn't anything that Jack Harding has done yet," Rocky explained to them. Reminded the room. "And I understand that it doesn't meant nothing _won't _happen. He truly did get upset when it was found that he couldn't continue with his businesses." It was very unsettling how red the man's face had gotten as his screams filtered out of the courthouse despite him and his brothers having already left.

"Upset?" Tum-Tum snorted. "That guy is a psycho."

"So, you can understand our concerns about his release," Chief Roundcreek stated. Rocky nodded. Chief Roundcreek bowed his head. He took in a deep breath, as if mediating. Rocky smiled a little. It was his favorite part about the reserve if he were being honest, the time he got to spend with Chief Roundtree and the older medicine women of the tribe was very similar to his calm demeanor within the meditation he did for his ninja training.

Colt, apt to his name, found himself drawn more towards the care and training of the horses on the reserve, along with Jo's help. He learned how to ride the horses the fastest of the boys. Something he absolutely enjoyed throwing in their unspoken competition with each other. And Rocky was impressed, an activity where you had to be very gentle towards the animal was something Colt excelled at. (While simultaneously embarrassed with how long it took for him to get used to the horses as well).

Tum-Tum, of course, preferred the food. The different spices and grains that Jo and her family worked together to make their meals every day. Harvesting from what they planted as well as what they got from the grocery stores. Helped him branch out from the food he shoved down his throat that led to his weight problem. So much so that when Tum-Tum took some of Jo's favorite recipes back to the house, begging their mother to try it out and wanting to help himself, it was a turning point for his maturity.

Each of the boys found their place within the reservation, it became a second home to them as much as their grandfather's cabin had been. It hit Rocky then, the understanding of the fear Jo and her family were feeling. If Jack Harding truly were able to come back, then what was to stop him from wiping out the rest of their people? What was going to stop the consistent funerals that were held for those whose lives were cut too short?

He was their boogeyman and as far as they were concerned, they were children facing it against after years of listening to their mother's soothing words that there was 'no such thing'.

"What can we do to help?" Colt asked.

"Yeah, we don't want anything to happen to you guys," Tum-Tum agreed.

Jo smiled warmly at her friends. "There's nothing you can do right now," she pointed out. "Not until he shows his face again. But we wanted you to know that no matter what happens, we're all still here for you. Just as we hope you are with us."

"Of course," Rocky agreed. He and Colt exchanged another glance. This time, one of surprise, and a little bit of suspicion. Was there something else they knew that the boys didn't? "We wouldn't abandon you guys."

"Not at a time like this," Colt added.

"You'd couldn't _pay us _to leave you alone," Tum-Tum agreed.

Charlie, Selina, and Jo all chuckled while Chief Roundcreek nodded once. He opened his eyes and raised his hands, extending his open palms to the three boys. He said something that Rocky couldn't quite understand, but still knew to hold great meaning for the tribe. When he finished, Chief Roundcreek lowered his hands and backed away from the three boys.

"It's good to see you again," he said to the three boys.

And that was it. They were dismissed. He had other things he needed to do in the meantime. Jo waved to her parents and ushered the boys out of the building once more. They didn't say anything more until far enough away from the building, back into the center of the reserve.

Even Tum-Tum managed to stay quiet. But the second they were able to speak again he blurted out, "What was that? Did he put some sort of a curse on us?"

Jo giggled quietly. "No, Tum," she said patiently. "But you're sort of close." She laughed harder when Colt sucked in a breath so sharp that he started to choke. "He ensured that the spirits were to be there to protect you," She explained. "Just in case."

"In case of what?" Colt folded his arms. "In case of a wildebeest stampede?"

Jo's smile faded. She shook her head. "There's more to life than what we can see. More than we can predict. Jack Harding isn't a nice man and his followers aren't nice either. He's a businessman and businessmen are run by greed. That greed will consume them and poison their blood until there's nothing left. No life. Just an empty shell run by that greed. And when they get to that point, they'll do anything." She glanced over her shoulder, eyes searching the ground of their home. "My parents think when he started dumping, Jack Harding was to that point. I can only imagine what he'll be like if he does show his face again."

"Well, whatever happens, we'll be there to stop him," Colt promised.

"I know," Jo agreed. "I know you will." She turned in the opposite direction at the sound of a horse whiney. A warm smile came to her face, a real one this time. "Do you guys have time to see how the horses have been growing before you leave?"

"As long as they don't mind if we take a ride," Colt agreed.

"Yeah, as long as we can get a ride," Tum-Tum agreed.

"We have to get home," Rocky reminded his brothers. "Mom wanted us home as soon as we left grandpa's. We're already running a risk stopping off here, first."

"You're just scared that you're going to lose," Colt taunted. He paused for the words to sink in. "Which you will. But that's not the point."

"Come on, Rocky, it's not going to take long," Tum-Tum joined in on the pleading. When Rocky folded his arms, not budging, Tum-Tum decided to stick out his lower lip, making Rocky sigh. The 'pleading look' hadn't' worked in years. (Though their mother was continuously swayed by it). And it wasn't going to work that time had Jo not leaned in over Tum-Tum's shoulder and thrown in the same look, sticking out her lower lip and widening her eyes.

For a moment, Rocky was reminded how, at first, he'd been interested in Jo. It didn't take him long to realize—and partially feel ashamed—that he didn't truly like Jo that way, just that she was new. A breath of fresh air. And she showed a calm energy where he didn't have to worry about whether he was leading her on just by being nice. Where…he didn't have to think so much about Emily and what their status was at the time. He quickly moved out of the way when he figured it out and knew she was into Colt but struggled with the pressure it put on him.

And as he watched Jo continue to stick out her lip, goading him into wanting to take some time away from following the rules and having some fun, Rocky felt admiration for her. She was a calm power that new when to and how to explode. If she managed to figure that out when she was twelve, then there was a bright future ahead of her.

Rocky could only hope he'd learn how to do the same.

His resolve broke and a smile came to his face. "Do you think mom would be upset if we brought some of those flowers back for her?"

* * *

Jack didn't wait for the secret knock to finish before he yanked open the door to his apartment and dragged the newcomer inside. He kicked the door shut and locked it behind him, clenching his teeth. The wetted cigar sticking out the corner of his mouth squished between his jaws He parted his teeth slightly, turning his head away to spit on the ground.

The dark brown splatter didn't matter much to him. The apartment was a crap hole, it wouldn't take too long for him to get into a condo or anything bigger. The largest house in the city? That would do. He just had to wait a little bit longer. Watch as the money rolled in and invest it back into even bigger and better areas of development.

A circle of making money.

Just as he did before.

He was a businessman by blood and the time he spent in prison opened his eyes to an opportunity he'd been missing for years. Opened his eyes to what would set up not just himself but Los Angeles for a financial boon. It's not like the city wasn't short on product anyway.

"What happened?" He demanded. "Why didn't you get back to me sooner? It's been days!"

"I'm sorry, boss, but I've had a lot of cops watchin' me," the man, JJ Kilpatrick replied. He ran a hand over his face. "I shave my head and face and these guys are still following me." Jack continued to glare him. "But I've done like you said. I laid low and started plantin' seeds while we waited for you to get out."

"And?" Jack demanded.

JJ's smile widened. "And things are going even better than you thought, boss. We've got everything set up. An the doughs' already coming in." He reached into the bag he carried with him and pulled out a thick envelope.

Jack let go of JJ's collar and grabbed the envelope. Once he pushed it open and saw how many hundred and fifty-dollar bills were shoved inside, he screamed with laughter, punching the air with his fists. "And this is just the beginning. We're going to be rich by the weeks' end."

JJ nodded eagerly. "But, uh, we need to get more product."

"If you did what you were supposed to do you won't need to worry about it. The product will be coming in as quick as the money and spread as far and fast." Jack slapped the envelope against his palm. "Just need to ensure we don't lose our turf."

"Not to worry, boss, these people know your name and what you can do. There's already been a lot of people who said they're on your side."

"Perfect." Jack grabbed JJ again. This time grabbing him by the neck to pull him closer. "Just you wait. A couple of weeks and then this whole thing will boom faster than you can say 'dot com'."

JJ's evil laughter mixed along with Jack's.

A laughter filled with greed that proved they knew what they were about to do and didn't care.


	5. Surprise, Surprise

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Rocky ducked his head to clear a low hanging branch. Once he successfully passed beneath, he dug his knees into his horse's flank, holding onto the reigns as tightly as he could, allowing his body to move with the rapid undulation of the horse's body. Hooves thudded against the ground, only drowned out by Colt's triumphant laughter.

Rocky looked over his shoulder to see Colt on his own horse, easily coming up behind him, with Jo and Tum-Tum trailing close behind. They raced over the flowered fields, over the winding hills and through the sprawling forest surrounding the Indian reserve, enjoying the freedom of the breeze that blew by their faces. Rocky faced forward again, lowering himself towards the horse's back, did his best to become as aerodynamic as possible.

But Colt, who had found a sort of calling through his work with the horses, easily and quickly surpassed him, spurring his horse on to cross the finish line they'd deemed as the fallen log by the fencing close to the stables. One lap around the surrounding land and, as per usual, Colt toyed with them the entire way they went, making it appear he was having a bad day.

And the grin that came over Colt's face was enough bragging material to keep him going for years, Rocky realized. Nevertheless, he had to congratulate his brother on a job well done and stuck out his hand, making Colt grin back and slap his palm against Rocky's.

"Say it," Colt taunted.

"You win," Rocky replied with a good-natured smile.

Colt's smile widened. He threw out his arms, basking in the wind and his win. "Ah, I love hearing that."

"Especially coming from me, you mean?"

"That, too."

Rocky looked over as Jo and Tum-Tum plodded up to a stop. Tum-Tum dropped his reigns and folded his arms, pouting both from his loss and from his hunger as he said, "Can we go home now? I'm hungry and I have to carbo-load before practice." An easy scapegoat to hide that he'd almost won. In his mind, anyway.

"And this used to be the kid who wouldn't get up off the couch during the summer unless you paid him," Colt remarked.

Jo laughed quietly. "Some things never change," she remarked. Then she looked over her home and dismounted her house with a graceful swing of her legs. Reaching out her hand, she ran her fingertips over her horse's nose, smiling when it gently nuzzled its nose into her palm. "And yet, everything does." For a moment, she kept her eyes downcast, brown irises filled with worry. Then it cleared and her sunny disposition came back as she turned to the boys. "Don't forget the flowers for your mom."

"Why don't you come with us, Jo?" Rocky suggested. "You haven't been to the mall or anything in a while."

"I've got a lot of work to do here," Jo reminded them. She lifted her hand, slapping her palm against her side. "But I'll be at the next part. I'm sorry I missed the last one." She laughed. "Did Jason really back his car into Mr. Pritchard's?"

"No," Rocky said at the same time Colt laughed and said, "Yes." Rocky shot his brother a look and clarified with an amused grin. "His car still breaks down all the time. He didn't back into it, the breaks went out and rolled into the car. Jason's put more money into it than I've seen Tum ever put into his candy habit."

"And that's saying something," Tum-Tum agreed. "I like to keep my stock refilled."

Jo giggled even louder. "Why doesn't he just buy a new car? Or ask his parents for one?"

"His parents won't buy him a new car unless he proves he can bring up his grades from last year," Rocky explained. "And we all know how he is with school so…" he shrugged. "Don't be surprised if he bums a lot of rides to school this year."

"We'd be glad to stop by and pick you up, too," Colt offered to Jo. He tossed his heard towards Rocky. "We already take Emily with us because…well, you know why." He laughed, ducking out of the way when Rocky shot out his hand and smacked his brother on the arm as hard as he could.

Jo brought up a hand, hoping to cover her laughter, though her shaking shoulders gave her away. "I'll think about it. But thanks." She paused. "It probably wouldn't be a bad idea, though I hope Colt is never the one driving.

Colt's laugher faded. His expression one of full offense. "What? Why?"

"Because the last time I rode in a car with you, we got pulled over for speeding. And then detained for hours until your dad came to get us."

Now it was Colt's turn to pout while his brothers laughed. He folded his arms, turning away as he said, "You know that officer was only making a point because they know dad made his way through the ranks at that precinct. They didn't _have _to hold us for three hours when they knew dad was coming."

Rocky couldn't help but burst Colt's bubble. "You know you were there for three hours _because _dad wanted to teach you a lesson, right?" He addressed Jo. "It wasn't his first-time speeding."

"I know that _now_."

"It wasn't his first time getting caught, either," Tum-Tum pointed out.

"You try to make it back for curfew…" Colt shrugged.

Suddenly, Rocky wished he had Colt's problem. That he was a little rebellious to the point that their father's threats didn't faze him. So that he wasn't so…afraid wasn't the word. Rocky wasn't afraid of his father, despite how intimidating he could be, something his father had learned from his years in the police force. Rocky remembered the long days of their father interrogating numerous criminals would send the boys scattering once he got home with a slam of the door.

Remembered the times where their father would turn his displaced anger and frustration onto his children. Sam Douglas had never hit his children, but it couldn't quite be said he hadn't regretted any of his other bursts of bringing work home with him.

No, Rocky wasn't afraid of his father, but he did have a healthy sense of respect for him. Respected him enough to know when confrontation was and wasn't something prudent. A lot of times it didn't seem like it was the best time for confrontation.

And being late after their mother asked them not to was not one of the reasons for confrontation. With that in mind, the boys, with Rocky's bidding, said goodbye to Jo, stopped to pick some wild flowers for their mom to appease their mom, and then left the reservation.

When they arrived at the house, the boys were surprised to see cars lining the streets, all the way up to their house. Rocky lifted a bemused eyebrow but didn't say anything more before pulling up to the house. He took notice of the curtains in the window fluttering, as if moving back into place and felt his blood run cold.

Immediately, he flashed back when he was younger, having to protect his house from what he thought were simply robbers. Having guns pointed in his face by men who weren't afraid of harm a child if needed. All because Snyder wanted to get revenge on an old partner of his. Because, if Rocky were being honest with what he truly knew, it had to do with their whole family and not just because of Mori, but because of his mother and father as well.

Rocky turned off the car and looked to his brothers. Colt looked back at Rocky, seemingly able to clock on to his older brother's plight with only a passing glance. Colt reached out and shook Rocky's shoulder. "Everything's okay, man. It's just our house. And you know mom and dad have the latest security systems in there."

"Yeah, I know," Rocky agreed. But PTSD was a tricky thing, he knew Colt was putting on a show, had the same thoughts. Call it intuition, call it brotherly instincts, call it that Colt and Tum-Tum were his best friends and no one else would know what their adventures were like. "Same to you."

"Yeah, well…" Colt shrugged and looked away.

Tum-Tum looked back and forth between his brothers before pumping open the door and the three climbed out. They reached the door at the same time, to find their mother opening the door with a flourish to the simultaneous shouts of 'surprise' as she did so.

Rocky's head jerked back at the sudden noise. He blinked rapidly. Saw Colt's hands clench into fists out the corner of his eye. Saw Tum-Tum flinch and immediately drop his head, as if ashamed he'd had such a childlike response. Nevertheless, their mother was all apologies as she brought each boy into a hug.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, giving each boy a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I forgot. You've been making such good progress—"

"—What his all for, mom?" Colt interrupted.

Jessica looked at him in surprise then gestured towards their friends and family behind them. "It's to say congratulations for the ninja tournament," She explained. Then she noticed her sons giving each other a look. "I know, hard to believe your father would want to throw you a party about that, but it was his idea."

"Where is dad, anyway?" Tum-Tum asked.

Jessica smiled at her youngest son, having to tilt her head back a little. No longer her baby, she'd grown used to her sons towering over her years before. Adding in Tum-Tum's literal ability to throw his weight around and she'd scaled back on treating him as such—for the most part. Rocky still found multiple times of injustice where he was 'protected' simply because of his status of being the youngest.

"He's out back cooking on the grill," Jessica explained. She immediately stepped aside as Tum-Tum reacted to her words, charging towards the backyard. "And your grandfather is in the living room talking to Jerry."

"Oh boy." Colt grinned. "You know how those two get when they're together." To Sam's disbelief, he found his partner and his father-in-law got along much better than he originally thought they would.

It wasn't too surprising, Rocky thought. They both shared a love of laughter compared to Sam's otherwise stoic nature. Different responses to different stressors.

"Well come in, all your friends are here, and they can't wait to talk to you guys about the tournament." Jessica ushered her older sons toward the living room. "It's not every day we get to see your guys' hard work pay off."

Rocky blinked in surprise. "You're coming to watch?"

"Of course!" Jessica studied her son closely. "Did you think we _wouldn't _come?"

"More like hoped," Colt teased. "You know how he gets with an audience. Remember the third-grade play."

"Shut up, Colt!"

That was different. That was a theatrical performance he hadn't wanted to be a part of with a million eyes watching him in case he messed up. If you messed up during a play, there was no way to redeem yourself from it. If you messed up a kata, you could easily hide it with another move. No one except those highly trained in martial arts knew what to look for if someone were to mess up a sequence. Not unless their face showed it. That was the toughest part for Rocky to get used to when he first started out, not showing it on his face, not reacting to it in any way.

He wasn't a perfectionist, per se. Perfection was unobtainable. But he took his training seriously and was as hard on himself as anyone else could be.

"Are those flowers for me?"

Startled, Rocky looked aside to see Emily standing next to him. She laughed quietly, seeing the pained expression that flittered across his face. "Uh, no, uh, these are for my mom." Then he realized how it could've been taken. "Not that I didn't think of bringing any to you, but if I knew you were going to be here—"

"—It's a _surprise party _Rocky," Emily pointed out with a gentle roll of her eyes. "If you knew it wouldn't' have been a surprise, right?" He nodded. Watched her closely for any signs of disappointment. "Would you relax?" There she went, seeming to read his mind without a second thought. "I was just kidding about the flowers."

"Right." Rocky took the bouquet and walked them to the kitchen to put them in a vase. Emily followed him. "Hey, uh, about that party a few days ago," he started. "I wanted to go, but I had so much stuff going on and—"

"—And you had a hard day at work and was too tired," Emily broke in. She sat at a stool, at the counter, crossing her legs at the knee. "I get it, Rocky. Could you hand me a soda?" Rocky did as he was told, reaching into the ice filled sink and dragged out two cans of soda. He passed one to her, after making sure to wipe off the excess water and condensation with a nearby dishrag before doing so. He smiled shyly at her teasing 'what a gentleman' comment, passing the unopened drink back and forth between her hands. "We did miss you, though."

Rocky tried not to look at her, knowing her words were innocent but her eyes were filled with earnest. He wouldn't say he was avoiding her; he really _was _tired after work and the whole Harding thing didn't help. He could say, as much as he wanted, that nothing was going to happen, and nothing had happened, but a sense of suspicion was healthy, he supposed.

Instead, Rocky grinned and said, "I heard Jase got into some trouble."

"What else is new? He has to pay off the damage to Mr. Pritchard's car." Emily shook her head, laughing. "There goes his savings; it's going to take forever for him to save up for that new car now."

"If he stopped hanging out so much and focused on work…"

"I keep telling him the same thing, but he says I'm just nagging him. It's only so long until he figures it out, but he'll get there."

"Before or after he reduces his car to nothing but tires?"

Rocky sat across from her at the counter, dragging over the fruit and vegetable platter that'd been sent out. He knew he should've been polite and gone through the party, saying 'hi' to everyone, but didn't have the energy or the want to do so. Last thing he wanted was to fake smile for the rest of the day. His face hadn't stopped hurting from the last time he'd had to do so; at one of his father's outings.

"We saw Jo today," Rocky continued, resting his arms on the island. "Says she's going to be in school with us. We might drive her there."

"I know," Emily agreed. Rocky raised his eyebrows, making Emily grin. "We were talking about it last night, when she called to talk about the party." Rocky's eyebrows rose even further. "Right, like her parents would let her go to a party like that. But that's what best friends are for, to talk about the stupid things the boys we know get into. Like,"-she turned her head, looking at Rocky out the corner of his eye—"racing horses just to impress people."

"Ah." Rocky nodded. "She though that, too?"

"I thought she and Colt broke up."

"They did, ages ago. But you know how Colt is; he's a flirt but when he finds someone he really likes…" Rocky trailed off. He'd only seen it once before, with Jo. How much different he dated around her, like the guy he knew his brother could be, like, well, like Jeffrey. With girls Colt was simply interested in, he was 'Colt'.

"I get it." Emily's smile widened. "Just like when you're 'Sam' and you're 'Rocky'."

Caught off-guard, Rocky couldn't help a brusque, "I thought we were talking about Colt."

"We were never talking about Colt, but okay." Emily laughed and sat up straight. "But it's exciting isn't it? Your grandfather's finally letting you enter a contest? You must be excited. I'm just glad I'm finally going to see you in action." She bobbed her head. "In a completely safe environment, I mean."

The excitement came back to him, then. It really was a big thing. "I know, grandpa said he'd never put us in one, I'm not really sure what changed his mind. But I can't wait to see the people we'll be going up again."

"Yo, Sam!" Rocky looked up and nodded as Jason entered the kitchen with Colt and Colt's best friend, Brett, right behind him. "I was looking all over for you, dude." He grabbed a chair from the kitchen table and dragged it to Rocky's side. Rocky and Colt both looked at him with a glare. Jason smiled sheepishly. "Sorry." He turned the chair around and dropped into the seat. "You guys talking about this whole ninja tournament?"

"Of course," Emily replied. "What else would we be talking about."

"We were saying it's weird how grandpa never wanted us in them," Rocky explained to Colt.

"I was thinking the same thing," Colt agreed. "Not that I'm not excited, but we've been begging him for years to let us enter. And he never told us way."

"You know he didn't want our egos to get too big," Rocky reminded his brother.

"Too late," Brett remarked, earning an elbow directly to the ribs from Colt.

"And the whole money thing didn't help," Colt agreed. Emily, Jason, and Brett looked at each other in confusion. "These tournaments have a fee you need to pay to enter and then some of the biggest prizes are monetary as well. The biggest we've heard so far is about $1000." He nodded at his friend's shocked expressions. "'Yeah, grandpa never wanted us to want to enter them because of greed."

"And what would you do with that much money, Jeff?" Jason asked.

Colt thought for only a moment. He'd always known what he wanted. "A sports car."

"Fast and furious, baby!" Brett agreed and the two hollered, giving each other a high-five.

"What about you, Rocky?" Emily asked. "What would you do with that much money?"

"Save it for college, I guess."

Colt snorted. "That is _such _a 'Rocky' answer."

"That's my name, don't wear it out," Rocky joked, making his brother and friends laugh. He grinned and shrugged modestly. "School's important."

"Yeah, we know that." Jason rolled his eyes. But this is money that you can do anything with. You can buy whatever you want. One thousand is a lot of money. If it were me, I'd use it-"

"—On a new car, we know," Emily interrupted. She ran a hand through her hair, tapped her finger against her cheek in thought. "Mmm...I think I'd use it to buy some new clothes, some makeup, a new laptop, and maybe a new bike."

"A laptop would take up most of that money, Em," Rocky pointed out.

She conceded that thought and said, "Maybe just a new cell phone, then." She then pointed at him. "But you haven't answered the question."

"Yes, I did. I said I'd use it on school."

"That's such a lame answer. I'm talking disposable money, what would you use it on?"

Rocky thought for a moment. He wasn't sure. There were plenty of things that, only in his wildest dreams, he'd think about but if he were being completely honest…a grin came to his face, making his blue eyes shine. "I'd probably use it on a new HD camera. There's one I've had my eye on for a while."

"Well, we won't know until one of us wins." Colt stretched his arms in front of him, cracking his interlaced fingers. "And when I win the tournament, when I beat you, we'll finally know who's the best ninja in the family."

Rocky wanted to sigh. Wanted to demand why Colt and Tum-Tum were so insistent on beating him. Why they focused so much on the negatives when their positives were even more impressive. Why they didn't seem to notice the amount of pressure and guilt it put on him day after day when they made those comments. Wanted to know why he allowed it to get to him so easily? So badly?

"We'll see," was all Rocky said in response.


	6. Research

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Rocky yawned and rubbed at his eyes before looking over the brochure in his hands once more. Not that he didn't know everything within said brochure. He knew it cover to cover. Knew of the sprawling campus of UCLA on the front. Knew the smiling faces of the students plastered all over the inside, carefully crafted to show the diversity they strived to show newcomers. He knew the stats on each page that talked about the acceptance rate, the graduation rate, and how many people went on bigger and better things afterwards.

He knew all the buzz words on each page that were bolded for emphasis and knew exactly where each picture of the sprawling campus was taken. He should have considering how often his parents made him go over the brochure. Not to mention how many times their parents took them to homecoming events and big football games that went on since he was a toddler. All the alumni events that their father proudly showed his face at…

Rocky sighed and put the brochure away, picking up another one. Of a campus he didn't know as well in person but would recognize by even the slightest picture. Washington State. He couldn't explain what it was about the university that had drawn him in, but it seemed to have everything he wanted. It wasn't as well known, didn't have as big of a party scene no matter what his father said, but there was plenty to do in the neighboring town. Safe. Had good sports programs. It was close—not as close as UCLA—but close that his family could visit.

_Far enough away…_The thought entered Rocky's head before he could stop it. He paused briefly, lowering the brochure in his hand, and closed his eyes. Stuffed the thought away in the dark recesses of his mind, never to be touched again unless it managed to work its way back to the front. Just like a lot of other things; things that embarrassed him from his childhood, things he didn't have time to think about, things that wouldn't stop bugging him

Once his mind was clear, Rocky lifted the brochure and looked over it once more. He flipped it back and forth in his hands, studying the familiar words. His mouth twisted to the side as he looked at the statistics of the school. Looked at the degrees and programs…psychology, biology, earth science...things other than economics and pre-law.

Rocky sighed and closed the brochure. He placed it atop of the one for UCLA and placed them in the drawer of his bedside table. Stretching out, Rocky reached up an arm and rested it across his forehead. So much work at the pizza shop, helping their grandpa, their continued martial arts training didn't give him a lot of time to think about school. But his father certainly pushed for it.

Rocky expected a regular night after the party, but Sam Douglas made sure he put aside time to talk to Rocky about his school choice even more. "It's never too early to start thinking about school. To start planning out the next four years."

Even though he hadn't sent out applications or even started senior year yet. The best school year of his high school career was starting just a week after the ninja tournament and he already wasn't looking forward to it. Not that he didn't like school, he enjoyed it very much. But it was just a countdown of how much time he had at home before leaving for the first time in his life and no one was letting him forget it.

Didn't people have more to talk about than; "what school are you going to?" "Are you applying for any scholarships?" "What are you going to study?"

I don't know.

My parents make enough money not to need a scholarship.

I haven't decided yet.

Those were Rocky's answers when in reality they were more like; UCLA, we're financially stable enough to send you boys to college without putting you in debt, economics, pre-law. And Rocky sat back and let it all happen. There was no point in contesting it at the moment, best not to ruffle a few feathers when they were already trying to pretend that Mori's move into their house wasn't inevitable.

He tried to bring it up as they were cleaning up the party that night, helping his mother clear away the kitchen while Colt and Tum-Tum cleaned up the trash in the backyard and in the living room. "Grandpa seemed to be looking better lately," Rocky said quietly, glancing at his mom.

"'Yeah, I haven't seen daddy dance around like that in a long time," Jessica replied. Rocky watched as his mother's smile waned, turning down at the corners just a little. "He and mom used to go dancing all the time. I'd beg to go with them as I got older, after seeing all the pictures they'd bring back and seeing how dressed up they were."

"When did they stop going?" Rocky asked.

"Uh…" Jessica tilted her head back in thought. "A little after mom got sick."

Rocky felt his heart twinge at the mention of his grandmother. He didn't remember too much about her, though did have a much closer relationship with her than Colt or Tum-Tum ever had. They really didn't get the chance. Rocky was almost six when she passed away after a long battle with Alzheimer's. He didn't understand it at the time; why his grandmother would slowly forget his name or confuse him with Colt, why she didn't remember the rules to their favorites games or how to get back from their ice cream tips. His mother and father tried to explain it to him, "she's really sick."

"Can we bring her some soup to make her feel better?" Rocky had innocently asked.

"It's not that kind of sick, sweetie," Jessica said, gently running her fingers through his hair and down the side of his face in the soothing way she'd always done. "She's going to be forgetting a lot of things. Soon, your grandpa will have to take care of her, in more ways than your father and I could ever take care of each other."

"'But you need to know she still loves you," Sam agreed. "She may act differently around you, but she still loves you very much."

Still, Rocky didn't get it. Until he saw it firsthand. He wondered if that's what had made things difficult for his grandpa over the years. He retreated from the city to live in the cabin they only went to during the summer, turned cold when it came to speaking about his wife and any memories of her. Wondered if the same thing was affecting him now.

"What made you suddenly ask about mom?" Jessica asked, finally turning to address her eldest son head on.

Rocky was silent for a moment. Gathered his thoughts. "I was thinking about the ninja tournament," he said slowly. "Grandpa always said he didn't want us to enter them." Jessica nodded quietly. "I just can't help but wonder why now? Is…is there something wrong with him?" He searched his mother's eyes for the truth while simultaneously worried about what he'd find there.

Jessica simply sighed, scratching just at her temple. "He's just getting older, Rocky. And he wants to be able to make sure you guys can experience everything you can." She hesitated, hearing the sound of Colt and Tum-Tum start to argue about something. A common occurrence. Their voices weren't loud enough for them to go in and break thins up yet. "He told me about how he thought of turning the ninja training to you."

Rocky shrugged and looked away.

"You don't want to do it, do you?"

"I don't know."

It was an honest answer. He didn't know. He didn't know anything he wanted to do. The future was being pushed on him left right and center with everyone nudging him in the direction to go. And there he was, stalling in the intersection at a crossroads that kept him from completely making up his mind. He still had time, didn't he? Why was everyone so insistent on having an answer right then and there?

Ironic considering, he didn't press his mother for more information on his grandfather's health. The conversation died there before Rocky went towards his room, being caught in his father's crosshairs to talk about school.

Climbing off his bed, Rocky went to his desk and dropped down into his office chair. Placing his feet on the floor, he moved from one side of the room to the desk that sat on the other. He insisted on it, having two desks, to keep his things organized. The desk on the left side of his room was specifically for school and school work so that he was in a clear headspace. The other was for his recreation, where he read his comic books, books for fun, his Japanese learning book, and worked on his photography.

Pinned to the wall above his desk were pictures of him, his family, and his friends over the years as well as some shots he'd taken himself. Some of his grandfather's cabin, some of the beach, his parents, his brother, one of Emily, of Jo and her parents, a picture of Miyo that had been sent with her last letter. Everything he valued out of life. Reminders that he didn't have to stress so much

He rolled over to his computer desk and opened his laptop. Glancing at the picture of Jo standing proudly in her ceremonial garb, Rocky couldn't help but think about Jack Harding. He continuously said they shouldn't worry as nothing had happened yet, but…truthfully, he was just biding his time, trying to figure out the best way to go about the situation.

Rocky powered up his computer, minimizing the photo he was editing, and brought up the internet. He immediately saw the chat program on his computer flashing, knowing it was Emily who had responded to the message he'd sent that morning. Going from cans connected on strings to walkie talkies to texting on their cell phones and chatting on their computers, they still were only a quick message away from each other.

He pulled it open and looked over the message she'd sent, responding to the link of the photo he'd taken of her that he shared online.

**Emily: **Did you have to choose that one? I look disgusting.

From what Rocky remembered, she looked great. They'd spent the day taking some test shots for their senior pictures when they were hanging out at the beach and around the city. He thought it was a good one, the light filtering beneath the pier behind her simply highlighted the photo.

Rocky quickly typed back.

**Rocky: **I think you look great. It's a great picture.

**Emily: **Of course you'd find a way to boost your own ego. She added a winky face to the comment, making Rocky chuckle to himself before adding, **Emily: **Remember, I have to give authority before you post another one.

**Rocky: **Yeah, yeah, I know.

**Emily: **By the way, I came across this and thought you might want to see it. I sent it to Jo, too.

And a hyperlink came to the chat. Rocky clicked into it and frowned when he saw Jack Harding's name come up. It was another version of the article that came through the newspaper but held a little more information on him. Information that he and his brothers wouldn't otherwise know. His past business dealings, his background in school, information on all his previous work and affiliations. Rocky scanned the article, humming under his breath when he noted the mayor's name added in the article as well. As far as he remembered, the mayor had resigned shortly after Harding had gone to prison.

He hadn't thought anything of it at the time. The stress of the trial and the pressure from the Tawanka tribe had to have put just enough pressure for him to want to leave his job. But as Rocky read the entire article, a strange feeling settled in his stomach.

The same feeling he received when his intuition was screaming at him. It went off seconds before Miyo alerted to them that the grand mater they'd been speaking to, to hand over the golden dagger was in fact Koga. The same feeling he'd received when he was at the amusement park, noticing some of the more hardened types of people working at the booths rather than all American, cheerful people. And many other times. When there were classmates he figured to stay away from, all who eventually ended up in drugs. From older people that creeped him out in some way who were later arrested.

His intuition never failed him.

Something about Jack wasn't sitting right with him. He couldn't ignore it any longer.

And so, for the next hour, Rocky found himself searching website after website to learn more about Harding. To glean as much information as he could from his past businesses and tidbits of his personal life that came through in interviews or article soundbites that were few and far between. Jack, when he wasn't bragging about his wealth, was a private man. He didn't talk about his investments until he made a good chunk of money. It followed a cycle; silence and then an announcement of some sort that brought attention and publicity to his business where it was grown to a certain point, silence, then a new business venture.

Over and over again.

Jack knew what he was doing.

And as Rocky fell further and further into the rabbit hole, he couldn't help but wonder _What's Jack up to now? _He clearly wasn't going to do anything with Jo's tribe again. He wasn't that stupid. For the businesses that failed, he didn't seem to revisit it. _But he did say that at court, _he reminded himself. That he was going to get back at them, that he was going to come back in some way. _What way is it going to be this time?_

Chewing his thumbnail, Rocky stared at the photo of Harding that came up on screen. A grinning businessman who's beaming smile clamped his teeth around a cigar poking out the side of his mouth. The same way Rocky remembered him.

"What are you hiding?" he murmured.

At the sound of a knock on his doorframe, Rocky jumped and leaned back from his laptop, subtly twisting it aside so the screen wasn't visible from the doorway. He relaxed when he saw Colt already on his way into the room.

Irritation immediately filled Rocky. How many times did he have to tell his brothers to wait for a response from knocking before going inside? It took a bit for their mother to learn it as well, an embarrassing result on both sides for the things she'd managed to see. But Colt and Tum-Tum didn't always have a lot of tact.

"What are you still doing up?" Colt asked, eyebrows coming together.

Rocky glanced at the clock on his computer. He hadn't realized it was so late. No wonder he was so tired. Then he looked at Colt once more, noticing the way he shoved his keys into his pocket and spoke under his breath. He'd stayed out past curfew and was sneaking back in, Rocky surmised. _And he didn't think anyone else was going to be awake. _Not that it was quite a surprise, Rocky couldn't remember the last time Colt had been on time for curfew.

"I could ask you the same thing," Rocky replied, trying to keep his irritation from showing. He willed his heart to calm down from being startled. "What was it this time? You lose track of time? The car break down? Got a flat?"

"Nah, I think I used that excuse too many times," Colt said, still speaking under his breath. He slid into Rocky's room, closing the door behind him and dropped onto Rocky's bed, clasping his hands between his knees. "I was going to go with taking the wrong exit then having to turn around and come back." Colt glanced at him. "You think dad will buy it?"

Rocky gave him a look in response that clearly read, _What do you think?_

Colt shrugged noncommittingly. Then he pointed with his chin towards Rocky's computer. "So, was I interrupting some of your alone time with Emily or was it a single person job?" He laughed and Rocky picked up a pen from his desk, throwing it towards his brother. Colt easily knocked it out of the air. "Seriously, what's up? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Shh." Rocky pressed his finger to his lips then motioned for Colt to join him. Colt immediately moved to his side, unable to keep his curiosities at bay. "Is Tum still asleep?"

"Can't you hear his snoring through the wall?"

Rocky and Colt both fell silent, listening for the tell-tall sing of Tum-Tum's deep slumber. It didn't take long to hear the grinding sound of Tum-Tum's snoring. The boy slept as deeply as he liked to eat. Rocky made a mental note to talk to his mom about Tum seeing a doctor for it. He was sure his diet had something to do with it.

"Why? Do you not want him to know about this or something?"

"I wanted to get your opinion first," Rocky admitted. He pointed to the laptop screen and moved back so Colt could lean in and read. Colt read the article silently, his lips moving as he mouthed the words to himself. Rocky watched Colt's expression as he read. As emotional as Colt claimed he wasn't, he also wore his heart on his sleeve, every emotion available in one look at his hazel eyes.

Colt must've perfected his stoic expression over the years for Rocky couldn't tell what his brother was thinking. "What do you think?" Rocky finally asked, tired of the silence.

Colt worried his lower lip, eyes shifting as he thought. There were many times Rocky delegated the 'leadership' moments to Colt. Sometimes it was the sheer stress of having to make a decision and agonizing over it, that shifting it to Colt made things clearer. And there wer times were Colt naturally took that position—usually his suggestions being to go guns blazing, and usually it worked—but it went further than that.

Colt, in many ways, was Rocky's right hand man. There were many times when he felt odd if Colt wasn't by his side, helping him figure out what was and wasn't a good way to move forward despite Colt obviously looking up to him for the final say. He'd seen, through numerous times of their adventures over the years, where Rocky's decisions bothered Colt. Especiallyw hen following the 'ways of then ninja' to settle things as peacefully as possible before using their fists.

Their basketball game against Darryl and Darren for Emily's bike back was the first to spring to mind. Colt always had a hair-trigger temper and was known around the school for not being afraid to get into fights. But it was mostly talk before he got his ninja name, waiting until he was pushed far enough to lash out. Getting his ninja name—and what Rocky learned later was his crying out for their dad's attention—seemed to flip a switch in Colt, making his first instinct to fight. Since then Rocky continuously had to remind Colt 'no fighting'.

The second time that came to mind was when they came across Darren again. This time as part of their rival baseball team, the Mustangs. He'd been taunting the three of them outside the house and, to put some distance and time between them, Rocky suggested they go inside, quickly changing it to a demand when Colt defied him saying, 'you're not my boss' clearly itching to shove his fist through Darren's face. They fought after that with Colt demanding to know why Rocky was 'acting like grandpa' and worrying that the other guys would think he looked like a wimp.

The third time was the same as the fourth, fifth, and sixth times. Just the moments where he and Colt butted heads because of the ways they handled conflicts. Sometimes Rocky lost his temper and shoved Colt, which resulted in a shoving match between the two. But not a full out fight. Never a full out fight. Maybe because they both thought the other would win. Maybe their pride couldn't take it.

Maybe because they didn't want to know what it meant if they ever truly were to fight each other.

What it'd mean if one of them won.

Even when they sparred, they didn't go all out. Rocky pulled his punches, knew Colt did the same. They watched each other for an opening in their attacks but nothing to completely knock each other out. That was probably going to change once the ninja tournament started.

It was probably the real reason why their grandfather opposed it all those years.

Finally, Colt said honestly, "I don't know what to think. There's nothing here that proves he's up to something but…you can't really shake the feeling." He looked to Rocky. "I thought you said we shouldn't worry about it, because Harding hasn't done anything."

"That was before I saw this," Rocky admitted. "You can change your opinion on things once you get the facts. And these facts are hard to ignore."

"So, what are you thinking?"

"We talk to dad," Rocky said. "'Sit him down and ask him outright. We know what happened the last time we hesitated." Rocky and Colt exchanged knowing glances, immediately thinking of how quickly everything with Snyder went down. It wasn't just their fault, Sam had brushed them off at numerous points, not having a good relationship with ninja or his father-in-law back then. "He should be more receptive to it now."

"If you think so," Colt agreed.

Rocky noted the edge to his voice and folded his arms, tapping his feet on the ground. "You're thinking of something else?"

Colt shrugged. "The same thing we always do. Trail him and find out as much information as we can."

"You think it'll work now? We're a little too big to be hanging off the back of an ice cream truck."

"It's worked all the other times, hasn't it?"

Not just their four main adventures, but through all the other things that had been going on in the city and with their school. Locker thefts, car jackings, money laundering, whatever could have gone on they helped the police and school security figure it out.

A smile of pride pulled at Rocky's lips. "You're right."

"So, we're going to talk to dad?" Colt asked.

"Yeah. As soon as possible."

"Do you think he'll listen to us this time?"

Rocky mulled over the question. He pulled off his glasses and folded the arms. "He has to."

It wasn't that their father didn't believe them when they talked about their misgivings. Just that there was only so much he could say about his job, with other parts being confidential. But when there were things they found out that he could know, he was a bit more perceptive. He continuously pleaded with them to, "leave this to me, I don't want you to get in trouble again."

The problem was trouble always seemed to find them.

Not the other way around.

* * *

"So, everything's in place?" Jack Harding asked the man standing across from him. "Everything's going to run smoothly?"

"Everything is going to run smoothly," the man replied. He grinned broadly at Jack, prompting the businessman to smile as well. "As soon as you agreed to have MedoCal be one of the sponsors of the event, we knew it was a good way to go. You'll be bringing in a lot of business for the city as well as the attention it'll bring to our tourism expo. It's a win-win for all of us."

"When can I expect the return from this opportunity?" Jack asked, stepping closer to the man. "I know you've given us free booth space but we're still starting up—"

"—Mr. Harding, I assure you, the name MedoCal is going to be all over this event. You're going to have a lot of business coming your way. And if everything goes the way I think it will, you'll soon be putting GNC and the like out of business."

"That's what I like to hear." He grasped the man's shoulders, shaking him. "That's what I like to hear!"

The man laughed nervously, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulders. He watched Jack when he let go of his arms and let out a cheer, clenching his fists at his sides. Obviously cheering for the victory of the event. There was no way it was going to fail, not only would it speak to the Asian cultures that resided around Los Angeles, but it certainly would bring in tourism from other areas, it being the first time Los Angeles held a competition of this caliber.

And, from what he heard about these 3 Ninjas kids, there was going to be a draw to see them in action rather than what they did behind the scenes to stop crimes around the city and that terrorism threat as they grew up.

Still, the man couldn't help but wonder why Jack Harding was so interested in investing in a ninja tournament.


	7. Questions

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

Rocky sucked in a deep breath.

Tried to focus.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Forget everything that was going on around him. Forget that his brothers were standing right next to him, doing the same breathing techniques to meditate. To get their minds in the right place. To focus. Forget that his grandfather was pacing around them, quietly instructing them what to think, what to focus on.

Not the competition.

Not each other.

But on themselves. "In the long run, you only have yourselves."

Rocky's eyebrows twitched at that. That wasn't what their grandfather had been teaching them over the years. They'd been the four strands of rope as long as he could remember. He remembered when they started out as a twist, just him and his grandfather. When Colt came along, they were a braid, three strands wrapped tightly around each other and holding on tightly. Only becoming a rope when Tum-Tum joined them in their martial arts training as well. And since then, that rope may have started to unravel, may have become weather beaten, but they'd continued to stand strong with each other. They were nothing without each other, overcoming each other's shorts with their strengths.

Now they were to rely on themselves? Rocky's eyes quickly fluttered open. He glanced at his grandfather, who looked back at him, probably knowing Rocky was going to look his way, then closed his eyes once more. He wondered if his grandfather was specifically speaking to him in that moment. Or if he was speaking about the tournament in general.

They weren't going to be fighting the 'bad guys' in that tournament. They weren't defending their home or their friends. They were specifically fighting to beat other people and beat each other. Rocky couldn't remember when was the last time he'd actively tried to beat his brothers at anything. Since they were all born they were a team; from having each other's backs to playing on their father's baseball team. Though they separated into their own sports in school; basketball for Rocky, soccer for Colt, wrestling for Tum-Tum, they still played on the city's team and were still there for each other.

How were they supposed to stand in the middle of the ring and look their brother in the eye, knowing someone was going to win and someone was going to lose?

"I want you all to know, that no matter what happens, I'm very proud of you," Mori continued, his voice fading and growing in strength as he walked around the brothers. "And I'm glad to have been able to teach you ninja all these years. I want you to remember every lesson I've taught you about life and the way of the ninja along the way. But most importantly…" he trailed off, prompting the boys to open their eyes.

Mori smiled back at them. "I want you to have fun."

Rocky felt himself start to smile, relief rolling through him, releasing the weight from his shoulders. Looking at Colt and Tum-Tum, he could see they were smiling as well. Nerves pushed aside for the excitement of an event they were never able to participate in before.

_It is exciting, _Rocky reminded himself. Feeling it start to grow in his chest. _We've never done something like this before. _It was as exciting as it was to take down all the bad guys they'd seen over the years. Not that he purposefully went looking for that trouble, he didn't like to brag about it, but it was also a sort of addiction. That adrenaline rush that went through him when there was some new mystery to uncover, some new _thing _going on that seemed only he and his brothers could solve.

Still, facing off against his brothers…?

Even if he managed to get through round after round, taking down whomever got in his way, he wasn't sure how he'd handle going against Colt or Tum-Tum. Colt was a very strong fighter, he knew how to use his energy and emotions in a fight to win. He was a bit wild, but it worked out. Tum-Tum knew how to let other people do all the work for him, tiring themselves out so that he could put in the final blow, it also helped that he was late to hit his growth spurt, making him able to reach the more unprotected parts of the body that others wouldn't anticipate.

They were good.

_Am I good enough to beat them? _Rocky asked himself, placing his hands along his thighs and bowing with his brothers to their grandfather. _More importantly, can I beat them?_

Rocky pushed the thought from his head as he and his brothers moved off the front lawn and into their house. Tum-Tum grasped their grandfather's elbow, herding him into the house where the smell of a delicious breakfast wafted toward them. Rocky spotted their father sitting at the head of the table, frowning down at the smart phone in his hand.

Sam's brow creased, mouth puckered as his eyes slowly shifted up and down the screen, finger poised just above it while his other hand grasped it tightly, in case a wayward wind would blow it out his hand.

Rocky caught Colt's eye and the two snickered. Sam Douglas, FBI agent, master interrogator—to criminals and to his own family—a no-nonsense guy, was easily stumped by the passing technology that continued to fall into his hands. There were perks to his job; Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum never had to beg for the newest phone, their father received them from his job. But that didn't mean the learning curve which was as straight as Jo's arrows for the boys wasn't a mountain for their father.

"Do you need help?" Colt asked, dropping into his seat next to his father. He used to have one side of the table to himself, his parents at either end, Rocky sitting across from him, and Tum-Tum on Rocky's other side. (The arrangement made when Rocky wouldn't respond to any of Tum-Tum's antics at the table, compared to Colt, immediately getting him to settle down). Now Mori settled into the seat on Colt's other side, next to his daughter.

"No, no, I think I'm fine," Sam replied slowly, his voice giving away his evident frustration at whatever he was looking for. "I just can't seem to get this article any bigger." He brought his phone closer to his face, squinting harder.

"Sam, if you keep doing that, you'll be headed for glasses sooner than you think," Jessica reminded her husband, placing a large plate of French toast in the center of the table. Barely getting her hands out the way before Tum-Tum grabbed the platter and started to pass out everyone's fair share. (With his always being a little bit bigger).

"Yeah, we've already got one four eyes in the family," Colt joked to Rocky, who simply looked at him with a raised eyebrow in response. "We don't need another one."

"Yeah, yeah," Rocky said, brushing off the light teasing. "But we'll see whose laughing when you're eighty and are wearing glasses with thicker frames than mine. That is, if you don't get knocked upside the head a few times."

Colt merely grinned back in response. He glanced at their father once more, laughed under his breath, and reached over. Pressing his thumb and index finger into the screen, Colt extended his fingers from each other and the page Sam was on jumped to a bigger size.

Sam jumped as well. "Oh!" He cleared his throat and nodded to his son. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Colt glanced at the screen then looked up to meet Rocky's eyes. Rocky raised his eyebrows in question and Colt nodded. They weren't quite able to communicate silently, their communication skills left a lot to be desired when Colt ran off his emotions and Rocky tried to keep levelheaded and downplay things, equally frustrating each other, having set off numerous blowups over the years.

This time, however, Rocky knew what the look meant. It was an open opportunity for them to talk about Jack Harding and…and everything. Taking a breath so deep that he could see his mother, grandfather, and little brother glance at him, Rocky said, "Hey Dad?" Slowly, almost unsteadily.

"Huh?" Sam grunted in reply.

"What's going on with Jack Harding? Why was he released from prison?"

Startled, Sam lifted his chin to look at his family. They all stared back at him forks poised above their plates. Save for Tum-Tum, who quietly shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. Rocky held his breath, waiting for his father's response.

He could do one of two things; brush them off and say it wasn't anything they should worry about, as he had done over the years, or he could step up and tell them everything they needed to know. It was in that split second, where Rocky looked toward his mom then back to his dad, that he saw a look she gave him.

A frustrated look?

Annoyed?

A warning?

Rocky wasn't quite sure. He couldn't remember the last time his mother looked at his father like that. Rocky looked back at Sam, waiting for his response. Whether or not he'd seen his wife's look, Sam didn't let on for he put his phone on the table, face down, and steepled his fingers.

"He was released from prison because of good behavior," Sam said honestly. For a second, Rocky was taken aback at how forthcoming his father was. Then his words hit him. _Good behavior?_

"What?" The word slipped from his mouth, nose crinkling along with his word.

Colt and Tum-Tum snorted while Mori grunted and shifted in his seat. He kept his eyes on the plate in front of him, not even looking at his daughter as she placed a comforting hand on his wrist. Tum-Tum's cheek bulged with his breakfast as he said, "If he showed bad behavior, then I'm a saint."

"You wish," Colt shot back.

"It wasn't just his good behavior," Sam continued. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Good behavior, compared to some of the guys in there, can literally be anything. Follow the rules, bribe the guards with drugs, know someone on the inside who has an amazingly talented legal team…just about anyone can get out if they want. But here's the other thing." Sam lifted his finger. "Part of the reason Harding went to prison was for tax evasion and for some of his business dealings, he could reduce his sentence with the certain amount of money he paid back." Sam dropped his hand and shrugged. "He paid them off."

"But how could he get his money?" Colt asked. "He wasn't able to continue working on his businesses, was he?"

Sam was deliberate in pausing to collect his thoughts before responding. "There's not much, legally, I can say to you," he explained. "What with it being classified information. What I _can _tell you is that he has good friends in high places who owed him a favor. They still had stakes and claims in their portions of his business that made it easy for his debt to be paid off. Everything else was luck; he had access to computers and the internet, making it so that he was able to start an empire all over again."

Now Jessica couldn't help but look concerned. "Can he do that?" She asked, spinning her fork around her fingers.

Sam spread his hands. "He did."

"I mean…" she rubbed her forehead. "He was illegally dumping oil and…and other chemicals onto a scared land. Shouldn't that count for something?" She shook her head. "All those deaths?"

"He can't be charged with those crimes," Sam pointed out patiently. His nostrils flared, almost imperceptibly. "Due to his plea deal. We know he did what he did, but he can't be charged with them anymore. Not manslaughter. Not even aggravated assault."

"The Tawanka tribe are still really upset about it," Colt chimed in. "They have memorial and everything for it, they…they're still seeing if there's anything they can do to fight it. To fight him. Especially now that he's back."

Jessica nodded. "Do you think he's going to do anything else?" She asked slowly.

Rocky knew what she meant. Did he think Jack was going to come back and find some sort of a revenge on them? Is that why he didn't say anything about Harding the first few days? Why he buried himself behind his newspaper and acted like nothing was going on when he came home that night? Were they in anymore danger than they had been when they testified against him in court? Where they had to leave their home and stay in a hotel for a while because of those 'friends in high places'?

Did they have to worry now?

"Absolutely not," Sam shot back. Though whether he was trying to convince himself, Rocky wasn't sure. "He's a businessman not a terrorist. Revenge isn't his MO, he just wants to make a lot of money in any way he can."

"Greed and ego are man's downfall." Mori murmured, finally getting everyone's attention. It was the first time he'd spoken since arriving inside. He looked pensive over the pile of food on his plate, carefully pushing at it with his fork. "It takes over the heart, poisons it from the inside out until there's nothing but darkness left."

Colt blinked silently. Then, after a beat, he tilted his head towards Tum-Tum and said, "It's alright, Grandpa, you can say you're talking about Tum. I'm sure he doesn't mind."

"Hey!"

The table erupted into laughter when Tum—Tum picked up an orange and threw it at Colt, who grabbed it from the air and whipped it back at his younger brother. It sailed over Tum-Tum's head and landed in the kitchen. Jessica admonished her sons but couldn't quite get the words out as she laughed as well.

Thankfully, the tense conversation topic changed to the excited energy that crackled along the table that morning. Not much longer until they made it to the ninja tournament and…well…

_A lot of things can and will happen, _Rocky thought as he continued to eat, joining in on conversation and laughing with his family as the conversation continued. _Someone's going to win, someone's going to lose. …Either way, something is going to happen._

Whether there'd be a fallout, or everything being brushed under the rug, Rocky wasn't sure. But it wouldn't be pretty. On one hand, he wanted to win to prove to his father everything they were doing with ninja was worthwhile. Wanted to keep their name in the papers for a good reason, for something they could be increasingly proud of instead of potentially embarrassed by.

Not that it mattered much, he knew his boss would put up the newspaper article the second it came out.

The family finished breakfast and hurried to get read, alternating showers and who was getting dressed to be sure they were out the door on time. As they climbed into their trusty station wagon—managing to continue on despite the years that passed—Rocky settled into his seat towards the front. Mori slid in next to him with Colt and Tum-Tum in the back, their parents sitting in the front. Sam always drove and Jessica was always the passenger.

Rocky looked between them as they all settled in; dressed in what they typically wore to one of their baseball games; baseball hats, bright t-shirts tucked into jeans, sneakers. Weekend version of themselves, a far cry from a straight-laced FBI Agent and homemaker who dabbled in PR. They smiled at each other in adoration, but Rocky couldn't help but think of the look his parents gave each other earlier that day. Sam's word was law, Jessica went along with it.

Trusted him.

Or maybe she was a follower.

Rocky blinked and looked away, shame falling over him. Ashamed that he'd even think that of his parents. Or, worse, ashamed that he felt the same way. That he couldn't speak to his father as openly as he'd like all because he was afraid of what his father would say. Because his father was such a driving force and wanted what was best for them.

Put so much pressure on everyone and everything to be a certain way because…well, because…because Sam Douglas had high expectations and what was so wrong with wanting things to be a certain way?

Rocky glanced over his shoulder, seeing Colt and Tum-Tum's faces buried in their phones. Headphones strings hung form Colt's ears, and despite them being nestled inside, Rocky could hear the rock music that blared through it. Tum-Tum, on the other hand, looked like he was trying to keep from laughing at whatever video he was watching. Beside him, Mori sat quietly in his seat, almost as if he were sleeping.

Rocky knew he was awake, his eyes fluttered under his eyelids at every bump of the car. Mori was meditating, probably working to find peace within himself for letting them enter the tournament. Not to mention—a wry smile came to Rocky's face at the thought—had Mori really been asleep, his snores would've filled the car.

Picking up his own phone, Rocky navigated to his social media accounts and started to scroll through. He smiled when he saw a picture of Emily, Brett, Jason, and Jo all smashed together in frame, beaming for the camera with the caption: _Going to cheer on our friends, _posted to Emily's account. Along with the hashtag #ninjatournament.

With all their questions, he should've known they'd be as excited about it. Even when Rocky mentioned hesitation of going, Emily declared, "If you don't go to that tournament, I'll never speak to you again."

A threat she'd made good on once before. He'd done something stupid, broke a promise he'd made to her at one point, and she didn't speak to him for almost a month. When Emily said she'd do something, she'd do something. And as much as Colt and Tum-Tum teased him about not having his shadow around, even they grew to miss Emily's presence in their lives. Rocky apologized, made it up to her, and things were right again.

A shudder rolled down Rocky's spine. _Talk about pressure. _He would rather go up against his father than his best friend. Sometimes.

He continued to look through his social media profiles, searching through and liking the photos that came up on screen. Then he went to Google and searched the tournament.

Blah, blah, blah. Bringing a lot of tourism to the city. Blah, blah, blah. Sponsored by MedoCal. Blah, blah, blah. Hundreds of participants.

Rocky's gaze settled on the web page, his hovering thumb making the webpage slowly shift up an down, resulting from the electricity from his finger hovering near the screen. Hundreds of participants. Hundreds of other ninjas. Something twisted in his stomach. There were hundreds of people they'd have to face against.

It wasn't like he expected the tournament to be small by any means, but that he never really thought of it before. There were martial arts classes and dojos and gyms all over LA, but he and his brothers were a bit isolated, only going to their grandfather for their lessons. Stuck in a bubble where their adventures may have misguided them into thinking they were the best, when the best was going to pop that bubble.

Shaking his head, Rocky flipped to a classic rock playlist, put his headphones in his ears, and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the window. He allowed the movement of the car bumping along the road to lull him into an almost trance-like state. To the point he hadn't realized they arrived until Tum-Tum jostled the back of his seat shouting, "Rocky! I want to get out!"

"Sorry. Sorry." Rocky turned off his music and quickly climbed out of the car, dragging his gym bag with him.

"I think we sign in over there," Colt said, pointing to a desk that sat beneath a _REGISTRATION _sign.

Rocky flashed a charming smile at his brother and said, "You think?" resulting in a hard shove on the arm. Laughing, the boys went up to the desk. Rocky stepped forward, cleared his throat, and said politely, "I'm Rocky Douglas, these are my brothers Colt and Tum-Tum. We're here to sign up."

"Ah, yes, we've been expecting you." The woman behind the desk smile warmly at the three boys. "Word's going around that you're one of the ones to watch. Let me find your registration forms." She rifled through the box in front of her that held a clear packet, filled with a free t-shirt, water bottle, lanyard, pen, and pad of paper along with a number. "Okay, we're all set. Tum-Tum, your heat starts at ten, and Rocky and Colt, yours starts at eleven."

Tum-Tum blinked as he took his packet. "Are they trying to get through it that quickly?"

"With as many people as we have that's signed up, yes. But we also have different rankings of participants. The younger heat is ages 10 to 14, and the older is 15 to 19. Then we have an adult division that…"

The women's words faded as Rocky took in the meaning of her words. Colt was uncharacteristically silent as well. Even without lifting his head, without looking at his brother, Rocky knew Colt realized the same thing. Tum-Tum was lucky to not be in their same age group for the tournament. He didn't have to see who was the better of them in the end. Rocky was envious, he didn't know what he'd do once he and Colt ended up facing each other.

All he could do until then was ignore it and do the best he could when the time came.


	8. Making Your Acquaintance

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

Sam clapped along with Jessica and Mori as Tum-Tum shook hands with his opponent and went back to his side of the mat, trying—and failing—to hide the mega-watt smile that came to his face. He was moving on to the semi-finals, just as Rocky and Colt had done in their own heats.

It was no contest, Sam realized. The ones they were going against weren't that skilled in ninja. The boys almost single-handedly worked off the guys and girls that came against them. Hardly having to work up a sweat. Sam said so, but Mori, sitting on the left side of his daughter—never between Sam and Jessica and never on Sam's side—simply grunted and shook his head.

"Don't underestimate your opponent," Mori mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Sam gestured towards the group of kids that had been eliminated, looking bigger than the next one. "Tum just took down someone almost twice his size! You can't tell me that's not amazing."

"The boys are doing great, dad," Jessica agreed, placing her hand on her father's arm. "Your training with them is definitely helping them out."

At that, Mori couldn't help but a flicker of pride moved through his eyes, the corner of his mouth turning up. "Yes, well, there are other ninja masters out there and they have different styles of fighting, different ways for ninjas to use their bodies, their minds, and their opponents against each other. There may be people that the boys may not be prepared for. We can only hope they know what to do when it happens."

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport, dad." Jessica nudged her father on the arm and stood, stretching her arms above her head before adjusting her hat over her ponytail. "The boys are doing great."

"Until they have to face each other," Sam said.

Jessica rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Don't start, Sam."

"Hey, we all knew it was going to happen and we've warned the boys about this for years. So far, they've been lucky to find sports and activities they enjoy that didn't put them in each other's paths. Now they have to face it like men."

"Hey, Rocky and Colt can handle themselves," Jessica said. She placed her hand on her husband's arm, squeezing it gently. "There may be a new World War in our house, depending on who wins or loses, but they can handle themselves."

"Sure, a punch or two here and there and they'll be over it," Sam agreed. Jessica gave him a warning look, making him smile the charming-boyish smile that made her fall for him all those years ago. "They're guys, it's generally how they handle things. It's probably one of the good things about them learning this ninja business."

"Ninja is all about self-defense and knowing how to stop a fight before it becomes a fight," Mori denied.

Jessica tilted her head back as she laughed. "Oh no, we're going to start another one of those lectures." She nodded towards Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum as they gathered along the side of the fighting arena, congratulating each other on their wins, surrounded by their friends.

Sam watched them, knowing their smiles wouldn't last too much longer. _Tum-Tum's would, _Sam reminded himself. _But Rocky and Colt_…_this is going to be tough for them. _His boys were nothing short of competitive. With each other and other people. He saw it since they were little, always vying for their parents' attention in different avenues, always trying to best each other in sports and activities, also using it to better themselves and each other.

He'd seen their competitive nature on the city's baseball team, having had coached it since Rocky was playing t-ball. They hated to lose as much as they hated being the reason their team may have lost; pointing fingers and working hard on their shortcomings to be better for the next game. They took their loses with as much passion as they took their wins.

If Rocky and Colt ended up facing each other in the finals…well, Sam wasn't sure what would happen. If Colt won, his excitement over the win would be infectious, all he'd talk about for months. Finally, it was known who the best ninja of the family was, while Rocky would sit aside and stew quietly in his frustration of losing. But if Rocky won, he wouldn't say much about it. He'd smile and say his thanks and then fall silent to be considerate of Colt's feelings where he inevitably raged around the house.

Sam remembered the last time Colt's team had lost a soccer game in a move he deemed to be his fault. He was in a piss-poor mood for almost an entire week, going back to the charismatic middle son he knew and loved when he was finally able to release all the pent-up frustration.

And if they both lost…

Well, he couldn't imagine that happening. They were all too good.

"Well, let's at least get some food into ourselves before we get bogged down with the what ifs," Jessica said. "And while they're setting up for the next fight." Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum weren't going to be going up again for at least another hour and a half. "There's plenty of stalls to choose from, let's get the boys." She and Sam stood to go down the bleachers. "Dad, are you coming?"

"Oh, I'm fine right here," Mori said. "Just bring me something back." He waved a hand. "No pizza."

Sam glanced at his father-in-law with a half-smile. On one hand, he couldn't help but laugh at how Mori's aversion for pizza hadn't waned over the years, stuck with the popular food item amongst growing boys. But on the other hand, he wondered if his not wanting to go with them was more that his legs may be bothering him. Sam couldn't help but notice the way Mori continuously rubbed his legs, squeezing his thighs as the seconds passed.

"No pizza," Jessica agreed. She took Sam's hand and the two walked down the bleachers and over to their sons. "Hey boys, are you ready to get something to eat?"

"Yeah!" Tum-Tum cried, immediately rejuvenated from the prospect of food. Hungrily, his eyes roved over the numerous stalls and food trucks that'd been assembled. "Did you see me cream that guy? He didn't stand a chance!"

"'I have to admit, Tum, you did a pretty good job," Colt agreed.

"Pretty good?" Jason's eyebrows rose. He reached out and clapped Tum-Tum on the shoulder. "Mike, you wiped the floor with that guy." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Even better than your so-called brothers did."

"Thanks," Rocky said with a smirk.

"No, you guys should be proud," Jo said. She smiled at her friends. "You're doing a great job out there. I can't wait to see what the rest of your fights are going to look like." She looked back and forth between Rocky and Colt. "I'm excited."

"Well, we'll be sure to keep up the excitement for you," Colt said, modestly cracking his knuckles. "There's more than enough fight to go around." He started to shadowbox. "I'm ready for the next one, too."

"Well, let's just hope that you don't wear yourself out before then," Rocky commented. He elbowed Colt in the side when Brett had to lean back out of the way, seconds before he was punched on the arm by Colt's sudden jabbing punch to the side.

"Maybe that's not a bad thing," Emily said with a laugh. "He's always been pretty spirited, maybe this will knock our little pony down a peg." Colt stopped punching the air and rolled his eyes. Not many people were able to make fun of his ninja name, from the amount of times Colt would return home with a bloodied nose, scraped knuckles, or a detention slip, Sam knew it was one of the buttons that shouldn't be pressed.

"I understand how much it hurts," Sam remembered telling him once. "There were many times as I was growing up that I was teased for something or another. Mercifully." He paused as Colt snorted at that. Right, like the big bad FBI agent knew anything about being teased. "But you need to keep your temper under control. Trust me, I know how bad things can get."

"Whatever," Colt replied.

Always the same reply. "Whatever". A code for 'you don't get it' or 'you wouldn't understand', 'okay', 'alright', 'just get out of my face', 'I'm tired of talking about this'. That'd be the end of every conversation.

And yet, Emily managed to tease him with it, without having to worry of any repercussions. Sam often wondered if it was because of how close she was to Rocky and Colt didn't want to draw his brother's ire, or if it was because of how close she'd become with all the boys since being kidnapped and held captive along with them for that first night years ago.

"We'll catch up with you guys after we get something to eat," Rocky said to their friends. "Should only take a half hour or so."

"Okay," Emily agreed. "We'll probably be hanging out by the games booths or something. Just text us when you're done."

"Okay."

Sam grasped Jessica's hand as Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum fell in step with them, wandering through the crowd and towards the booths that had been set up. Booths for food from nearby restaurants, pieces of art, free samples from new businesses, pamphlets of information from the sponsors of the tournament, new things as far as the eye could see. And Tum-Tum ran from booth to booth, starting from ice cream before going to popcorn and cotton candy.

Rocky and Colt followed behind him, indulging in everything their otherwise moderately strict diet—Jessica made sure they head healthy diets and indulged every now and then—wouldn't allow. All the fighting they did that day certainly gave them raging appetites. But Sam dutifully took out his wallet at each stall to pay for everyone. It was a day to have fun and to celebrate, not to worry about how much they were spending.

He even took on a jumbo cone himself, licking the melting drops, holding onto his wife's hand with the other. He smiled, watching as his boys talked and laughed with each other, a few feet ahead on the path before them. Sam turned and smiled at Jessica, who smiled back at him. She leaned toward him, as if to give him a kiss on the cheek, but her hand moved further, to take his cone.

"Oh, come on!" Jessica cried indignantly.

Sam pulled it back out of the way, shaking his head. "If you wanted one so badly, you should've gotten one yourself." Jessica frowned and continued reaching for it. "And, aren't you still on that diet." He laughed, backing away when Jessica punched him hard on the arm. "Okay, okay, truce." He held the cone out to her.

"That's right." Jessica moved to grab the cone.

Sam shot his back once more, laughing at his wife's infuriated expression. That is, until he felt his hand holding the ice cream cone smash into someone. Sam immediately turned to apologize, finding a man quickly brushing off the front of his shirt. "Oh, geez."

"Sam!" Jessica whacked her husband on the arm. Sam looked at her with a 'are you serious?' expression in response. Jessica turned back to the man, quickly reaching for some napkins to help the man clean off. "I'm sorry, my husband can be so clumsy."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not clumsy," he said to the man then lowered his voice to Jessica saying, "I'm part of the FBI, I'm not clumsy." It was then Jessica's turn to give a 'are you serious?' look.

"Ah, no worries, mate." Sam and Jessica turned back to the man as he reached into the booth he stood besides, producing a drawstring bag from beneath. He ripped it open and pulled out a small towel as well as a plain white t-shirt. "Always come prepared, yeah?" He dabbed at the front of his shirt with the towel. "So," he leveled his gaze at Sam. "FBI, huh? You don't look FBI."

"Well, we can't always run around in our black suits with sunglasses on," Sam remarked.

The man squinted, slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, only slightly aging his otherwise handsome face. "Concealed carry?" He asked.

"Not any that I'm willing to admit to," Sam replied. Jessica elbowed him in the side, rolling her eyes as she did so. "Sorry, I'm Sam Douglas. This is my wife, Jessica. And…" he craned his neck, looking through the crowd. "Well, my sons were here a few minutes ago."

"Reed Jackson." Reed stood up and shook both of their hands. "How ya going?" Like Sam, he then craned his neck to the side. "My wife is just 'round there, she's helping me run the booth." His face split into a wide grin and he gestured with his hand. "Ren! Ren, over here." An Asian-American woman handed a bag to a customer on the other side of the booth and headed toward Reed. Reed held out his arm, putting it around the woman's shoulders when she reached his side. "This is my better half, Renee. Renee, this is Sam and Jessica Douglas."

"Hi, nice to meet you." Renee smiled widely, a bit more animated than the softness of her voice. A mixture of a whisper and a huskiness that Sam had come across only a few times before. Like her husband, her voice had a similar accent, not nearly close to how thick her husband's was. But showed the time they spent together. "Did I hear you say something about your sons?"

"Yes. We're here for the ninja tournament and they were just here a minute ago," Jessica said. She gave up looking as well, slapping her hand to her thigh. "Must be off to the next booth."

"Ah, you know how kids can get," Reed said with a wave of his hand. "Can't stand still for more than five seconds."

"You have kids?" Sam asked.

Something about the parents didn't quite make Sam believe it. They looked a little too well together. While waiting for their answer, Sam stepped back, looking over the tent. MedoCal. It was plastered all along the fronts and sides of the booth, even stamped on the front of…whatever it was they were giving away.

"Yeah…" Renee chuckled. "We have six. Four boys, two girls."

"Six?" Jessica laughed in surprise. "And I thought our three boys were a handful. I hope you had a lot of help."

"Well, there's a few years between them," Reed said. He ran a hand through his hair before rubbing his fingers over the five o'clock shadow creeping on his skin. "Our eldest is almost twenty and our youngest is ten. But our eldest is still back home, so we're just working with five right now."

"And where are you from?" Sam asked. "I couldn't help but notice your accent."

"I bet you'd guess England, yeah?"

"Australia."

Renee's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You're right," she mused. "It's where my husband's from. Sydney, to be exact. I'm from New York, we met there and ended up moving back to his home country." She and Jessica dissolved into conversation leaving Sam and Reed to converse.

"New York, huh?" Sam asked Reed. He felt himself slowly starting to loosen up around the man, only noticing it when his shoulders relaxed. He didn't inherently distrust people, but his line of work and memories of his sons being kidnapped while being watched by a babysitter—something they'd done many times before—made it difficult to completely relax around strangers. "What had you off to New York. It's a far way from Sydney."

"The lights." Sam looked at him, face twisting up in confusion. And abject judgement. He watched the man's lips twitch, blue eyes shining. "I'm messing with you, mate. Just giving you the mick of it. I was there for uni. NYU had a good science program and I'd always wanted to travel."

"What'd you end up studying?"

"I double majored in Aerospace and Mechanical Engineering." Reed tilted his head the other way. His eyes narrowed, just slightly. "You're asking me a lot of questions, Sam."

Sam's smile widened. "It's the nature of my job," he explained. Then he motioned to the booth. "So, MedoCal. You guys are running this whole thing?"

"That's what they tell me. It's a big sponsor for the tournament. I don't know anything about that, I'm just here to chin wag about our new product." Reed picked up a packet that sat on the table and handed it to Sam. "A new daily supplement to replace any missing vitamins or minerals in someone's diet. No side-effects."

Sam snorted. "There has to be side-effects," he pointed out. "Everyone's body chemistry is different."

"True," Reed agreed. "But we're talking about the big things." He started to count off on his fingers, starting at his thumb. "No weight gain, no seizures, no diarrhea, no increase in blood pressure, no nausea, no vomiting. Of course. there will be side effects with any overdoses, hey, but it taken properly everything would be right as bloody rain. It's all made naturally as well."

Sam turned the packet over in his hands, reading it off for himself. Listed ingredients were all natural. And he didn't know much about chemistry to understand the process of how the things were made. However, he did know about the law and FDA had to approve it to be sold to the public.

"We've got those free samples and a daily supplement kit to sell as well," Reed continued. "MedoCal is a fairly new business, but is already making their way to the top of the health and fitness industries." He shrugged. "I got the opportunity to come to California to help out and I couldn't turn it down, so I took the family with me."

"Well, I hope everything works out." Sam finally relaxed fully. Felt it from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. This man wasn't a threat. He didn't have to worry about any ulterior motives or anything. Sometimes coincidences were coincidences.

"Cheers, mate." Reed nodded to the packet Sam held. "Have a go at that, see if you don't feel any better after taking it."

"Thanks." Sam took two more samples that laid along the table. "Maybe I'll get my boys to try it out."

"You said they were competing today? How's it going?"

"So far, so good. Just need to see who'll win."

"Are you kids very competitive?"

"Yes and no," Sam replied. But he left it at that. He didn't need to open himself up too far. "What about you? You said you have…six kids?"

"Yes, one is in uni back home. The other five…" Reed let out a low whistle. "They're not so competitive with each other as they are in general. They just like to win. And they like to let it be known when they win. Riley especially. But the others can hold their own."

"Sounds like a lot of fun."

"Heaps. I hope you can meet them while you're here. They were around here somewhere." He pointed over his shoulder. "They're performing at one of the sound stages towards the end of the competition."

Sam suddenly thought about his sons. His loud, rambunctious sons who could argue just as much as they could get along. He couldn't imagine there being six of them and he certainly couldn't imagine them all playing instruments at once.

Colt playing the guitar was enough.

* * *

"Hey, where are mom and dad?"

At the same time, Rocky and Colt turned around, following Tum-Tum's question. Rocky gritted his teeth, eyes scanning the crowd. They hadn't gone too far from the ice cream stand, but the crowd had gotten bigger. Their parents were nowhere in sight.

"Who cares?" Colt asked. "They're too slow." He took a long lick of his ice cream, smacking his lips. "They're definitely getting old. I've never seen two people take so long to walk five feet before."

"Don't let dad hear you say that," Rocky reminded Colt, making the two snicker. Not to say their dad was vein in any way, but that he did care very much about his physique. Though he hadn't had many cases as big as Snyder, Sam made sure that if there was anything of that caliber again, he wanted to be sure to be stronger, faster, fitter than he was back then. "Or mom, for that matter."

"There's only so long they can make it to keep up with us," Tum-Tum pointed out.

"More specifically you when you're on a sugar high," Colt added. He smiled wryly. "Hey Rock, do you remember that time that Tum-Tum got into the baking chocolate and ran laps around the house with mom chasing after him?"

Rocky laughed loudly. "And he started puking when he was running? And mom was screaming 'Not in the house' as she went."

"Yeah, and Tum just kept running faster."

"I thought it was a game," Tum-Tum defended himself. "And who knew that baking chocolate would taste so disgusting? I've eaten _mud _that tasted better than that." He grinned, successfully making his brothers laugh.

The three slowly made their way back to the booth they'd lost their parents at. Finally, Rocky spotted his father's familiar stature in the distance—standing up straight, slightly on edge, hand shifted toward his waist as if reaching for a concealed weapon. Rocky didn't think he'd remembered a time where his father had ever been totally relaxed, even before Snyder showed up.

He had memories of him playing catch in the backyard when he got back from work, teaching him and his brothers how to ride a bike, playing football, going to as many of their games and activities as possible. Then things became more hectic at his job and the time spent with his sons became less and less.

Rocky understood, and yet he still felt dips of disappointment in his heart when he'd return home and his father's car wasn't in the driveway. Worse when it _was _in the driveway and Sam was in the driver's seat, looking over reams of paper or hauled up in his office.

"Boys!" Jessica spotted her sons and waved them over. "Over here!"

Rocky pointed them out and started over. He side-stepped an older couple who got in his way and stopped short, nearly walking into a girl about his age. "Sorry," he apologized quickly.

"No worries," she replied, checking herself over. Then looked up and smiled at him. "No harm done, mate." Rocky stared at her. Mentally pressing a finger to his chin. She looked familiar to him. Sort of reminded him of Miyo, could see some Asian features in her face. But nothing too strong to prove it, her dark blue eyes proved she wasn't entirely Asian. "Well, if you're going to stare at me, mate, I think it'd be fair to know your name. Just in case I have to press charges later."

Oh. Rocky blinked, took a step back. Around him, he could hear Colt and Tum-Tum snickering. _How come the only time they shut up is when I'm making a fool of myself? _Rocky though, frustrated. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out what name to introduce himself as.

"I'm Sam—ah," Rocky winced at his hesitation. It sounded weird to him, to refer to himself that way. For Jason to call him that, for any of his father's colleagues who knew him since he was born was normal. For Emily to huff and call him 'Sam' or 'Samuel' when she was annoyed was normal. To hear himself say it…he may as well as referred to someone who was dead. "Rocky." he corrected himself.

"Okay, 'Sam-ah-Rocky'," the girl replied. She smiled wider. "Which is it? Sam or Rocky?"

"Rocky. It's Rocky." He paused, looking at her closer. It took a second. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Why she looked so familiar to him. "You're the girl form the pizza shop," he realized.

The girl smiled and pointed at him. "And you're the _boy_ from the pizza shop," She teased. "Actually, it's Riley," She said, supplying her own name. "Not 'girl from the pizza shop' but you remembered me, so I must've made a good impression."

"I'm sorry," Rocky quickly apologized.

Sorry about a lot.

Calling her 'girl from the pizza shop'. Keeping her waiting. And especially smelling like pizza sauce, pepperoni, and sweat when he first met her and nothing but sweat now. Of course, it'd be right after he finished his heat.

He held out his hand. At least that was clear. "Nice to meet you." Riley had a firm grip as she shook his hand, almost crushing his fingers together but not quite. His eyes flickered toward the large tattoo that encircled her right arm. He couldn't quite make out what it was. When she let go, Rocky moved to run a hand through his hair, aware he no doubt had a bad case of hat hair, not helped by the sweat making his bangs cling to his forehead. He heard Colt clear his throat quietly behind him. "These are my brothers, Colt and Tum-Tum."

"Hi!" Tum-Tum said enthusiastically.

"Hey," Colt added with a nod of his head. Rocky did his best not to roll his eyes. Without looking at Colt, he could already imagine he was sizing up the girl, trying to decide if she were worth his time.

Riley nodded then motioned behind her, first the first time Rocky realizing there were more people with her. And they all looked so shockingly similar. It was kind of scary at first, noticing how the girls looked exactly the same, then how the boys looked exactly the same, and how the youngest of them looked similar as well. All with black hair and dark blue eyes, lightly tanned skin. Obviously spent a lot of time out in the sun considering they barely squinted at the sunlight that beamed down around them.

"This my sister Rhuben, and my brothers Patrick, Noah, and Sydney," Riley said, pointing to each of them in turn.

Rhuben brushed her strands of purple hair from her eyes. "Rocky I get," she said slowly. "Colt I've heard a few times before, yeah? Tum-Tum's a new one." She nodded to her brothers and sister. Shrugged. "I like it."

"Really?" Colt snorted. "Most people think our parents are hippies once they hear his name."

"Well, we've got a mate named Rooster, so I reckon we don't have much room to complain," Riley said.

"Rooster?" Colt repeated.

"Check out his hair, mate," Rhuben supplied. "Then you'll know why he's called Rooster."

Patrick suddenly lifted his chin after looking at the boys closely. "Oy, you're those blokes in the ninja competition, aren't you?" He asked.

Rocky's heart dropped to his feet. He could hear it already. Aren't you the 3 Ninjas? Didn't you guys save the city like a hundred times? Didn't you stop a massive terrorist? And the other rumors that tended to blow things out of proportion; didn't you singlehandedly save the FBI? Didn't you stop a threat to the entire world? Didn't you travel to Japan to stop a nuclear warhead form detonating?

Didn't you?

Didn't you?

Didn't you?

Noah elbowed Patrick in the side and said, "Tact, bro, look it up." He gestured to Rocky. "Clearly he's not too keen to talk about it."

"But you did a great job in your heat," Patrick continued. He flashed a lopsided smile. "Thought you were going to knock that bloke's head off."

Rocky smiled to himself. It _was _a pretty good high-jump kick if he did say so himself.

Colt, on the other hand, gave his brother a good-natured snort. "Rocky's much too nice to for that," he said. "I bet he even apologized for beating the other guy."

"Nothing wrong with being polite to the guy you managed to defeat," Sydney said, speaking up for the first time since being introduced. He simply watched the interaction with his older siblings and the newcomers. Nevertheless, Rocky couldn't help but note and slightly arrogant air come to his voice. "It's a man thing to do."

Riley laughed. "Like you know anything about being a man, Syd."

Patrick leaned over and examined her face, shrugging. "Well, with that mustache you've got going on, Riles, I'm sure you'd be the frontrunner to know, yeah?" He cried out when Riley and Rhuben both glared and whacked him on the arms.

"Are you going to stay and watch the rest?" Tum-Tum asked. "You're going to see me kick ass." He cocked his head towards Rocky and Colt. "Too bad I'm not in my brother's heat. I'd totally take them down."

"Yeah, right, string bean," Colt immediately retorted.

"Yeah, right?"

"Well, we've been watching since the start and you guys are really good," Rhuben reassured him. "Obviously heaps ahead of some of the other guys you've been fighting against. I just hope the rest of them get tougher for a more entertaining show."

Tum-Tum lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "You were bored? How do you get bored watching ninja? It's, like, the best thing ever."

"And as you can tell, ninja may as well be Tum's entire life," Rocky said, not realizing how sarcastic his voice had turned. A teasing comment to imply his youth of experience compared to himself and Colt.

Riley leveled her gaze at him. "Not yours?" She asked.

Rocky shifted his feet, took a moment to think before replying. He wasn't quite sure he liked the way it looked like her eyes were boring into him. As if looking right through him and could see his true thoughts about everything. About how he had come close to losing his last round due to the speed of his opponent and how that had rattled him.

He hadn't thought he'd be the best. Far from it. But had his confidence taken up a bit too far when after defeating the first few people. They were inexperienced. It was probably their first time doing anything with their ninja studies. But to work for so long and to almost be bested…it worried him a little. An hour and a half between heats was too much time for someone who liked to think things through.

Rocky shrugged and smiled. "I work in a pizza shop, remember. Discounts on food and as many arcade games as I want."

Riley laughed. "Living the dream," she agreed. She looked over her shoulder toward the MedoCal booth and sighed, "Looks like mum and dad need our help again. It was nice while it lasted."

"I told you we should've done another round," Noah remarked.

Rocky thought he got it then, the differences between Patrick and Noah, despite being twins. Patrick was clearly more outgoing in energy like Colt, Noah's was more subdued, like his own energy. Sydney was the youngest, like Tum.

Riley and Rhuben were a little harder. From first glance at the two of them, they looked the same in all manner. It didn't help they both wore MedoCal t-shirts with black shorts and shoes. Their outward energy was similar, though it appeared that Riley was the sort of leader of them all, as they immediately moved to go back to the booth once she stated their parents' plight.

"But we'll keep an eye out for you guys when the tourno starts up again," Riley said. "Sounds like you two are the front runners to win."

"Who's saying that?" Colt asked.

Rocky looked at him out the corner of his eye. Colt's voice was casual, but Rocky could practically see the fire of competition ignite within him. Something was happening with him, as it were. Sweat flooded his palms.

"Oh, it's around." Rhuben waved her hand in the air, flashing a music note tattoo sticking out from her right sleeve. "Everyone seems to have their eyes on you."

"Yeah, so you better not make a fool of yourself like you always do," Tum-Tum said.

Rocky glanced at his watch. "Well, we should probably get going. We don't have too much time left before we have to start going again." He held his hand out once more, then quickly brought it back to his side. Nodded instead. "It was nice to meet you."

"You, too," Patrick agreed. "We'll definitely be keeping an eye out for you guys." He cringed as there was a sudden knocking sound and free samples went flying off the booth. "And if you hear someone falling down the bleachers, that's probably our dad. So you'll see us in the crowd."

Colt looked over their hair. "Believe me, I don't think we'll miss you."

"You couldn't even if you wanted to," Rhuben agreed, laughing at something that only made her and her siblings find humorous, then lifted her hand in a wave, moving off with her siblings.

Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum moved back to their parents, who bid goodbye to Reed and Renee before they went back to the bleachers. They brought Mori a meatball sub, which he excited gobbled up the second it was passed to him, before the boys went back to the fighting area. Rocky took a few minutes to whip out his camera and take a few pictures of the contestants in the practice area and the surrounding tournament spectators. Most of the spectators stopped and turned with bright smiles—probably thinking he was an official photographer for the event, the competitors gave half smiles, too focused on what was going on around them, then there were the odd people who didn't want a picture taken. One man's scowl toward Rocky was imprinted in a photo Rocky took, making him frown as he examined how the photo turned out.

Rocky brushed it off, moving by it. After a while of taking pictures, Rocky changed back into his gi, making sure his number was safely pinned to his back. Then he sat aside, head lowered as he tried to block out the sounds around him, focusing on his upcoming fight. Colt and Tum-Tum sat nearby. While Tum-Tum talked animatedly to fellow contestants, Colt had earbuds in his ears, listening to some sort of rock music, face etched in an expression of deep concentration.

Pressing his palms through his eyes, Rocky focus on his upcoming match. The older guys would be first this time around. The nineteen-year-olds were finishing up their heat and it was an exciting match, judging by the sounds of the audience. He focused on the combination of moves he was going to do on his next opponent if things went a certain way.

One plan and two backups.

Always had to have a plan.

Always had to think things through.

Next thing he knew, he heard his name being called to set up on the mat. Once again, Rocky made sure his number was perfectly put in place, that his gi was tied around his waist, that he wasn't breaking any dress code of any kind. He lifted his chin in a slight nod when his name was called once more, blushing when he heard his family and friends the loudest of them all.

He studied the boy across form him. Very tanned, dark hair. Muscles that strained against the sleeves of his gi. Rocky had watched his match before. He had a lot of outward strength against him. But his moves were predictable.

Rocky sucked in a deep breath. Heard the whistle for the start of the competition and sank into a fighting stance. Went into 'fight mode' or when he truly was 'Rocky'. He backed up a few steps, watching as his opponent moved into his space and sent out a flurry of punches directly towards Rocky's face.

Punches that'd make the untrained flinch and duck away. Rocky, on the other hand, simply brought his head back a few inches past the full extension of his opponent's fist. Over and over. Moving closer and closer to the edge of the mat.

If he put one foot outside the perimeter…

Rocky caught his opponent's fist and twisted it aside, giving him the chance to kick him in the chest. His opponent stumbled backward, giving Rocky clearance to move to a bigger part of the ring. More space gave him the opportunity to size him up. Even from looking at him, Rocky knew his power was all in his muscles.

But that it was a show. Could see every time he was about to make a move…his weak spot. A smile curled at Rocky's lips. He tossed his head, a signal for his opponent to try once more. Like a red rag to a bull, his opponent charged toward him once more, yelling out kiais every time he punched toward him.

Again, Rocky shifted back out of the way. But kept himself close in striking distance. Finally, he got his opportunity. When his opponent brought back his arm for a strong punch, muscles tensing, Rocky saw him take in a deep breath.

At that exact moment, Rocky shot forward. "Aiya!" He pivoted on his back foot, turning his back towards his opponent's stomach. His opponent started to throw his first forward, his punch moving over Rocky's shoulder, where his face had just been, and Rocky drove his elbow back into his opponent's chest.

_Phew!_

Rocky felt and heard the wind get knocked out of his opponent. It was a strong jab to the solar plexus, a clever move that many others wouldn't have seen as an opportunity with his opponents' outward offensive move.

Twisting the other way, Rocky drove his knee into his opponent's chest, driving him backwards. His opponent wheezed for air, stumbling backwards. Rocky leapt forward, rolled across the ground, and swept the legs of his opponent out from beneath him.

He did a kip-up back to his feet, hearing the crowd explode with cheers. Hearing his grandfather's call of, "Strength and control!" proving he did a good job.

Rocky nodded to himself, clenching his hand into a fist when he heard the whistle in the background and the rising cheer in the crowd.

Another win. But it was easy.

Too easy.

He knew Colt wouldn't be.


	9. Rocky vs. Colt

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

Rocky took in a deep breath. He closed his eyes, dropping his head back as far as it would go. Tried to quell the nerves that shot through his body, that kept him absolutely wired. He wasn't someone who liked to drink coffee, didn't like a lot of caffeine, but as far as his body knew, he'd just taken a double shot of _something_.

It was getting closer. Closer to when he'd have to face the music. Pay the Piper. All those other euphemisms that he'd heard over the years. Or, as his grandpa—and ironically, their father liked to say, "Face it like a man."

Not in a patronizing way, but in the way that had the same feeling, "Don't run from challenges you need to face. Making excuses to back out of what you need to face makes it harder when the moment comes."

_If only they knew how similar they were, _Rocky thought. Feeling a jab to his side, Rocky opened his eyes to see Emily looking at him, brown eyes filled with concern. He looked back at her for a second then asked, a slight sense of exasperation in his tone, "What?"

"What?" Emily repeated, immediately clocking into his attitude. The two smiled at each other and Emily shook her head, pulling her hair back from her face. "You're missing it," She said, nodding to the fight going on in the practice below.

"I'm not," Rocky denied. He sat up, leaned forward clasped his hands between his legs. He watched as Tum-Tum expertly moved across the floor, handing his opponent's jabs and kicks back at him with ease. It didn't surprise Rocky. Tum-Tum, as much as he loved to eat and have fun, as much as his exterior could show him as someone who didn't take danger too seriously, was the most serious Rocky had ever seen him.

He was winning and Rocky was nothing short of proud for his baby brother. The finals were almost over, in a few minutes, Tum-Tum would win his heat and would be the winner of his age division, as he deserved to be. It wasn't that hat made him worry, it was how close he and Colt where to the end that made his stomach roll.

In a few minutes he'd be facing his brother in the ring in the semi-finals.

Rocky squeezed his hands together between his legs, crushing his fingertips as hard as he could. Emily reached out and grasped Rocky's hand in hers, forcing his left hand down and away so that she could wedge her fingers between his. "You're worried over nothing," She said.

"It's not nothing," Rocky replied, frowning. His stomach continued to squirm. He wasn't sure if it was still knowing he or his brother was about to face defeat, or if it was her holding his hand. He used his free hand to brush his hair from his forehead. "It's a lot."

"No matter what happens, you're still going to be brothers."

Rocky laughed quietly, his lips pulling back into a smile. "You're clearly an only child, Ems."

"That's not my fault!"

"It's not," he agreed. Rocky ran his hands through his hair, forcing Emily to drop her hand from his. She didn't move to grab it again when he dropped his arms back to his thighs. "But…there's always been this competition over our heads, in almost everything we do. We've always been compared to each other, in everything. Dad's baseball team, ninja training, school…but grandpa's always made sure we felt we were our own people. Here…"

Rocky gestured towards the mats, grinning when Tum-Tum landed a spectacular kick to his opponent's stomach, after having been held off by the longer length of his opponent's arms. He and Emily cheered as loud as everyone else when Tum-Tum's opponent felt over and got back to his feet in time for Tum-Tum to land a flurry of punches before flipping his opponent over his arm to the ground, where he didn't get back up.

The crowd exploded into cheers as Tum-Tum punched the air, hopping from foot to foot, an unmistakable glow in his smile despite the beads of sweat that poured down his face and dripped form his chin. Even from where he sat, Rocky could see their mother jumping up and down, slapping her husband and her father on the arms as they tried to duck away from her blows. Colt, standing on the far side of the mat clapped and whooped loudly for Tum-Tum as his arm was pulled over his head, declaring him the winner.

"What were you saying?" Emily asked as the cheering died down. She continued to clap, as Tum-Tum was handed his trophy.

"I'm just saying that, here, the competition is put over us again. Only this time…" Rocky shrugged. "This time, we all want to win."

Emily lifted an eyebrow and gave him a teasing smile. "The great Rock Douglas is finally admitting he wants to beat his brothers at something? He doesn't care about anyone's feelings?" She laughed when Rocky nudged her on the arm, almost pushing her over. "I'm kidding." She smoothed her hair back from her face, smiling warmly at him. "Whether or not you win, Rocky, you've already won, just getting this far. And we're all proud of you."

Rocky's smile widened. Then it faded when he heard his and Colt's names called to be brought to the mat. Down below, with Jo and Brett, Colt stood up and started to make his way to the mat. Rocky watched him as he went, watching how Colt moved with ease. As if nothing was weighing over their shoulders.

His eyes narrowed. "Yeah," Rocky said under his breath. "I guess you're right."

"I _know _I'm right," Emily corrected. "Now, at least have _some _fun." She grabbed Rocky's shoulder and shook him. "I'll hate you if you don't."

"Yeah, yeah…"

"What'd I miss?" Jason asked, dropping to Rocky's left side. He lifted his face from his phone to find Rocky and Emily both glaring at him. "What? There was a long ling in the bathroom."

"You missed Tum-Tum winning his heat," Emily replied.

"He won the whole thing," Rocky agreed.

Jason's eyes widened as big as his smile. "You're not shitting me?" He asked before moving his hand over his mouth, prompting Rocky to make a face and roll his eyes. As much as Jason joked about it, Rocky wasn't _that _tightly wound. "Mikey won? Wow, that kid's got more moves than I thought!" Then Jason looked at Rocky in commiseration. "He's never going to let you forget it."

"Yeah, I know," Rocky agreed. He got to his feet, rubbing the palms of his hands over the legs of his gi. Hearing his name called again, Rocky stood up and made his way down the bleachers to the mat. He kept his eyes on Colt as he went, Colt doing the same.

It wasn't just to get a handle on each other, but also to ignore the whispers that covered them as he went. Rocky knew they were the very same when Colt went down once their names were called.

"Did he say Rocky and Colt Douglas?"

"Aren't they the 3 Ninjas?"

"Yeah, and one of the brothers just won his heat."

"I can't wait to watch this one."

"I wonder who will win."

_So do I, _Rocky thought. Seconds before the second one, _I hope it's me, _came though.

Looking to see if Colt could suddenly read his mind, Rocky lifted his gaze to look at his brother. Colt looked back a him, bouncing from foot to foot. His signature stance, Rocky knew. Colt hadn't been able to sit still as long as he knew his brother. Colt being his ninja name was more apt than just for his fighting style.

Rocky's gaze swept the crowd; found his family and his friends all waving encouragingly at them—though his mother looked particularly worried, her hands covering her mouth. Saw the new family he'd met earlier that day, they were kidding he wouldn't miss them, that shock of raven-hair sitting in a row in the crowd was unmistakable, they watched him closely.

Out the corner of his eye, Rocky saw the referee move into position to start the match. Rocky grabbed the mouthpiece of his gi that sat around his neck and pulled it to cover his mouth. He watched as Colt did the same the nodded.

"Good luck," he called.

"You too," Colt called back.

Rocky lowered his gaze to his feet, thinking. He knew when the match started Colt would immediately come out, guns blazing. It's how he always worked. Start off with a good offense to put fear in his opponent. But their opponents over the years had been some of the most out of shape older men and those that weren't expecting kids to come after them, underestimating their skill and size. This was different.

He and Colt had seen each other's skills for years.

Now it was time to know who was going to come out on top.

The whistle blew.

Rocky lifted his head and fell back into a fighting stance. He was surprised to see Colt do the same, wondering what it was he was up to. It took him only a second to figure it out. Colt knew Rocky knew how he worked; if he were to act normally, Rocky would figure out a way to beat him sooner. It was that notion that had Rocky take the first blow, to throw Colt off-guard.

A straight jab toward Colt's face.

Colt's eyes widened. Just slightly. He hesitated long enough for Rocky to nearly put a punch directly to Colt's nose. Rocky watched as the tuft of hair that fell over Colt's forehead shot upwards form the force of the air Rocky punched. Then Colt shot up a hand and knocked Rocky's punch away from his face.

Colt then stepped forward and lifted his foot, extending his other up as high as he could. A straight kick upward that, had Rocky not bent back out of the way, would've clocked him in the chin. Rocky bent backwards until his body was bent at a right angle. He could feel the muscles in his stomach tighten as he did so.

Then he was back on his feet, and yet, Colt kept kicking. Kick after kick, hopping forward just slightly on his foot that held his body weight. Rocky continued to move himself back from Colt's extension. Rocky's gaze flicked downward. His lips pulled back in a smile.

Colt was keeping a part of himself very vulnerable. Rocky spun on his heel and aimed a kick directly towards the middle of Colt's spread legs. In the split second before connection, Rocky saw Colt's eyes widen before he pitched himself to the ground.

Just as Rocky expected. He watched Colt drop down to his hand, pressing his body close to the ground to protect himself. Rocky placed his hands on Colt's back and pushed himself into a handstand, effectively dropping his body weight onto his younger brother so that he became closely pressed to the ground. Rocky heard Colt's grunt in pain, chest crushed between his brother and the ground.

Rocky dug his fingers into Colt's gi and dropped his weight back until his body connected to the ground. Rocky sat down and used that momentum to continue rolling backwards, dragging his brother with him. They rolled over until they were back in the same position with Colt splayed on the ground and Rocky straddling his back.

Colt lifted his foot and kicked Rocky in the back of his head, knocking off his older brother. Rocky bent to the side, trying to avoid another hit, blinking away the stars that'd exploded in his eyes. He could feel and hear Colt's heavy breathing beneath him. Saw the muscles in his brother's back tense up, before as powerful as the muscles in a bucking bronco about to take its rider for a wild ride.

Wiggling free, Colt twisted to his side and aimed a kick at Rocky. Rocky brought up his arms, slinging his wrists together in an 'X' to deflect the blow. But the blow still smacked his wrists hard enough to leave a lasting sting that shot up through his fingertips. Colt too the opportunity and wrapped his legs around Rocky's neck, twisting them aside.

"Gah!" Rocky gagged, feeling his Adam's Apple painfully squeezed shut between Colt's thighs. He brought up his hands to pry Colt's knees apart but brought himself up to his feet, raising Colt's lower half up off the ground.

Colt placed his hands on the ground behind him and used it to propel his body around. The momentum made Rocky do a butterfly twist to the side as Colt did a no-handed flip to his feet as well.

The audience burst into excited applause as the boys moved back into fighting stances.

Then they leapt at each other and started throwing everything they could to take each other on. Strong punches that connected, kicks that made each other keep their distance and equally move closer. Evasions that made Rocky's heart race with how close they came to knocking him in the face. He wasn't vain by any means but knowing how painful it was to have a foot to the face wasn't something Rocky was looking forward to experiencing.

Not if it meant defeat.

The audience melted away. He couldn't hear anyone's cheering. Couldn't hear the encouraging shouts. Couldn't even tell where his family and friends were sitting any longer. All he could focus on was his brother and beating him. Going on to the next level and winning and…

Rocky saw the frustration that flashed over Colt's face. Recognized the expression the numerous times Rocky had beat him in sparring as they grew up. Saw it when they were playing their baseball games and he was taunted with 'strike out kid' at nearly every turn. Saw it when he was called 'pony boy'. All of which doing nothing more than fueling Colt's fire. And when he got to that point, Colt was nearly unstoppable.

_Can you beat him? _The thought crossed his mind for a second. Rocky thought he could. He _wanted _to beat Colt. But…it was the consequences that'd come with it. The part of the unspoken competition between them they definitely would never come close to admitting they thought about it—would it fracture their relationship afterwards?

Rocky stopped.

It was that second that Colt reacted.

He ran towards Rocky, bearing down on him like a wild horse. His arms splayed as he went. Rocky moved to the side, to grab Colt's arm. Colt moved faster. He darted to the side, brought his knee up into Rocky's back—directly into his kidney. Rocky cried out as he flew forward from the force of the hit, bringing his chest down into the kick that Colt sent straight into his sternum.

Rocky twisted and flipped, crashing hard to the ground, the wind knocking out of him. He gasped for air, a gurgled wheeze escaping his lips, arms splayed on the ground, legs twisted with each other. His entire body tingled while Rocky's brain screamed at him to get up.

Get up.

_Get up._

_GET UP._

Rocky lifted his hand, unable to catch his breath. He shook his head. He couldn't keep going. And yet, when he moved his hand back to the mat, when he heard the sound of the whistle going off to signify Colt the winner, Rocky pressed his fingers into the mat, arms shaking.

He lost.

Rocky rolled over so that he could sit down, stretching out his legs so he could catch his breath. It all came back at once. Too late. Colt sauntered over to him and held out his hand. Rocky looked at it for a moment before limply placing his hand in Colt's allowing himself to be brought to his feet. The two looked at each other for a long moment, Colt's eyes the only visible portion of his face beneath the mask of his gi, before letting go.

Rocky backed away from his brother and jogged off the mat to polite clapping and cheering from the audience. He went to the changing area and grabbed his things, taking off the top part of his gi and changed into a white t-shirt, but kept the rest on. He kept his head low, slipped on his baseball cap to shield his face as he moved to sit in the stands once more.

He barely watched, numb, as Colt moved to and ultimately lost the next round. The next guy they came across was just too good; having numerous more years of experience that Rocky and his brothers didn't have. It wasn't an easy match for Colt; he had to work hard to stay up, but it was a relatively short one.

The tournament ended with only Tum-Tum a victor.

Rocky tried to stay as excited for his brother as possible, but was silent the entire way back to the house. Didn't make a sound when Tum-Tum—for winning—got the chance to choose their dinner that night; a dish Rocky didn't particularly like. He simply went upstairs, took a shower, and went to his room, sitting at his desk and pouring over a comic book that he wasn't quiet reading, somehow getting to the end without realizing it.

Then picking up another one to start all over again.

His mind whirred.

He lost. It hadn't been easy, but he lost. He ran the moment through his head once more. The slight hesitation. That exact moment that was his fatal flaw; where he second-guessed his next move of attack, giving Colt the opportunity to take him down.

If his head was in the game, if he'd shown off a little, he would won. Knew it deep in his bones, a steady ache that thrummed through him. That laid over him like a inky black blanket, growing deeper in its somberness as the seconds passed.

Rocky closed his eyes, clenched his hands into fists. Slammed the fists on the side of his desk and let out a long breath as the pain shot through his hands. He lifted his chin, resting it atop the hands he clasped together, and breathed out through his nose. Rocky flicked his gaze to the world outside his window, watching the wind blow through the trees.

"You let me win, didn't you?"

Rocky blinked in surprise while simultaneously stopped all his tensing muscles from making him jump out of fear. A lukewarm feeling washed through his body. His face then screwed up in outrage as he turned to Colt. Not just because of the accusation, but because he'd burst into his room without knocking first. And Colt knew that was what bugged Rocky the most. "I didn't let you win," he said. He pointed to the door. "Now get out."

"No," Colt defied. He folded his arms at the same time his eyes turned flinty. Rocky heaved a small sigh, knowing what was coming. No one ever escaped the wrath of Colt unscathed. There wasn't much he took more seriously than ninja. "Not until you tell me why you let me win."

"I _didn't _let you win," Rocky repeated. He tried a different tactic, hopeful his brother would listen to him this time. "Why would I do that if I wanted to win as badly as you did?"

That stymied Colt for a second. He blinked hard, looked away from Rocky, set his jaw. He looked very much like their father, then. It was funny, Rocky noted, how often Colt was told he resembled their mother compared to how often Rocky himself was told he resembled their father. Tum-Tum a mixture of the two in all but his long eyelashes—that was their mother's.

"Because you can't handle the thought of someone beating you," Colt shot back.

Rocky snorted.

Yeah, right.

They'd been beaten before. By their grandpa, many times. Their baseball team had been beaten many times. And so had their basketball team at school. Rocky had faced defeat more times than he'd cared to count but it wasn't the loss that was the important part, it was how you handled it. Rocky handled loss well after a small bout of anger.

Colt, clearly, hadn't learned that lesson yet. As it as, Colt continued to speak as if he hadn't heard Rocky's snort of dismissal. He continued with, "Let alone your own brother. So, you decide to throw it instead of actually losing. Because you know you'd lose to me."

At that, Rocky surged to his feet. He shoved Colt hard on the shoulder, jostling his brother hard enough for him to take a step back. "You really can be a jerk sometimes," he spat.

Colt shoved him back. "Takes one to know one."

Rocky stepped back, turned away, roughed his hands through his hair. Then he caught sight of his expression in the mirror hanging off his closet. Eyebrows pinched, tightened so hard his lips paled, blue-green eyes looking decidingly furious for something he'd gotten over within the last hour.

_Yeah right, _the tiny voice in the back of Rocky's head remarked before he could stop it.

Lowering his chin, Rocky heaved a sigh, allowing his shoulders to relax with the extension of his breath. Push it down. Compartmentalize it. Rocky turned back to Colt, much calmer. Though Colt's beady eyed stare was a clear indication he wasn't over everything yet.

"I didn't let you win," Rocky started to say, but Colt talked over him once more.

"Bullshit." Colt dropped his hands to his sides. His face wasn't as pinched with anger as it was before. He was calming down, Rocky noted. But he wasn't quite done being pissed. "I know you. I know the way you fight. There's no way you couldn't have seen what I was going to do before I did it. That's how you've always been. You use everything around you to your advantage. You had to have let me win."

Rocky folded his arms. "Have you ever thought you just might be better than me?"

"Of course." Colt didn't seem ashamed as he responded. Almost as if he'd been waiting for the day Rocky asked the question. His assuredness startled Rocky into smiling. "I always think I'm better than you. And I'm pretty sure I am."

"Well…" Rocky shrugged.

"But if we were ever going to figure it out, I wanted a fair fight." Colt brought up his hand to rub at his temples. All the fight left him when he dropped his hands. He practically pouted as he said, "Not that either of us know now. And do you know what the worst part is?" Rocky shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I saw Tum-Tum tucking his trophy into bed."

The two looked at each other and laughed. "Uh…" Rocky tried to figure out what to say in response but fell short. Started laughing again. When he was Tum-Tum's age he probably would've done the same thing, just due to the pride he felt over it. At his current age, he didn't think he'd do more than put it on his shelf with all his baseball and basketball trophies and admire it from afar.

"We really need to talk to Tum about his being a sore winner," Rocky commented.

"You saw him dancing with it over his head, too?"

"No. I saw how annoyed dad was starting to get with Tum saying 'See? I told you our training wasn't a waste of time!'. I don't think the way grandpa is grinning was helping much either." _Though, _Rocky thought. _I'm not sure how much longer dad can act like our ninja training isn't something we're eventually going to give up._

It was a point of contention for them over the years; Sam had never liked the boys going off to learn martial arts training as they grew up, thinking it'd only want them to become violent with other people. It proved a point when they were then kidnapped by Snyder. Made even worse when they used their skills to fight the Mustangs during a baseball game.

Rocky knew it was out of worry, the worry that lessened more and more as the boys grew older and their father saw what they could do with it. _If anyone ever told me dad would've let us enter a tournament and willingly watch, I would've laughed, _Rocky thought with a lift of his eyebrow.

"That's Tum for ya," Colt agreed. "He did a great job." Rocky waited for a snarky remark to follow the statement, but Colt simply looked back at his older brother. Rocky nodded in agreement.

"Tum did a great job. He's someone we really have to look out for if he ever gets into our division. It's going to happen sooner than later," Rocky added, seeing a skeptical flash in Colt's eyes. "He's not just our little brother. He really holds his own."

"Yeah, yeah."

Rocky smiled. Colt's niceness to their little brother was clearly over. "And it's not like it's the worst thing that could happen compared to other things."

"Other things?" Rocky prompted.

Colt lifted his eyebrows. "School," he prompted. "Now that the tournament is over, we have to go back to school."

Rocky's lips parted. He sucked in a sharp breath.

He'd completely forgotten about that. Rocky didn't love school, he enjoyed it enough as it being a way to spend a lot of time with his friends, learning new things, and able to participate in all of his sports. But, going into his senior year he had a whole new set of problems to deal with that he couldn't put off much longer.

* * *

Jack Harding continued to laugh uproarisly, watching as JJ and his other sidekicks threw wads of money into the air, watching it flutter to the ground. A green storm that no one else would be able to experience.

It was brilliant. _He _was brilliant. That ninja tournament…it had been a crap shoot of an idea. Something that'd only come to him during one of the slow, dull days when he was stuck in prison. Sitting in his cell, in his pod for twenty hours a day with some of the worst criminals.

There were murderers, extortionists, those that committed aggravated assault who he spent all his time with. But it was the drug dealers that helped him understand the way of life. Drug dealers that were ordinary people who simply made a choice to keep themselves alive. Those who were so poor that it was their only means of making any sort of savings to better themselves.

They were the real ones.

They were the ones who had money minds. They were _his _people. And they were the ones who kept his dream alive. His dream of getting out of prison to start everything all over again. They were the ones who made it so that Jack's living in that awful squalor wasn't so hard.

And yet, he dreamt of nothing but getting free.

His cell was dark and dank, the smell of urine consistently filling his nose form a cell mate who deemed to 'make his presence' by peeing on the floor. The snores of the other inmates filled Jack's ears day in and day out. There wasn't much to do other than eat, sleep and try not to be shivved by the others. Nevertheless, having to listen to the same sounds day in and day out, ever since he was put in there, was plain torture.

But Jack still had his visitors. There was a day where he lay staring at the ceiling, once again rolling in anger over his failing businesses when he heard the heavy footsteps of a guard coming closer. Jack's eyebrows had twitched then.

The guard was early, he knew. The prison ran like clockwork and it was outside of the regular hours. Looking at his hands which are cut and dirty he could hear the familiar, heavy steps of the guard coming nearer.

The door opened, he turned his head slightly, watching the guard's arm extend fully. In the second the door opened, Jack charged forward and rammed his shoulder into the guard's chest, smiling in satisfaction as he heard the sound of the man's ribs breaking. His charge sent him propelling against the opposing wall, leaving himself open for him to use his sock that was filled his rocks as weapon, hitting anywhere within reach. After a few moments, the guard slumped to the ground unconscious.

Or dead.

Jack didn't care.

He reached down towards the guard pulls out his gun, smiling as he weighed it in his hands. As quiet as a mouse, he closed the cell door behind him and started to run. He knew that there wouldn't be anyone around to ruin his plan, there was no chance of that happening. He had made sure that he studied every moment, every movement of those that were in the prison. He would be able to get out and away.

That's what Jack always hoped. And yet, his luck was never that good. If he were being honest, his greatest stroke of luck was that he stayed in prison. It gave him time to get the connections he needed on the outside, to start his next venture.

And now it was working.

It was working better than he thought it ever could.

"That stupid ninja tournament…" Jack watched as the smoke above him dissipated in swirls. "Who would've thought the best way to get people together was by hosting a fucking gimmicky tournament?"

JJ practically giggled, standing next to his boss. "Gimmicks are your forte, boss! Stealing from the poor and giving to the rich!"

"And these idiots can be as poor as they want, as soon as you find what they want and exploit it, they're all yours." Jack stabbed out his cigar on the arm of the couch. He stood up, pulling off his suspenders so that they draped behind them, allowing his stomach to bulge out slightly. Better than having to suck it in and act like he was the trim and fit.

He only needed to worry about that when he had all those cameras in his face. And with the way MedoCal was going, it wouldn't be too long before he started his appearances. Of course, there was the matter of that silly little Tawanka Tribe who were probably going to make his life a living hell, but he'd dealt with them before.

He could deal with them again if he needed.

There was such a thing as bad press and Jack Harding was going to make sure this one was a success.

But this time, he'd make sure anyone who opposed him was permanently silenced.


	10. Back To School

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

"Tum-Tum, get _up_!"

"Michael, we're not going to ask you again!"

Rocky rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, squinting through the watery sunlight that poured through the curtains covering his window. He squinted, briefly hating himself for the idea of not getting blackout curtains when he had the chance.

Especially since their next-door neighbor seemed to think it was fun to put up floodlights on all sides of his house. It didn't seem his appreciated being neighbors to the 'hometown heroes' as much as others did. It was bad enough the city wanted to make a celebratory day for them shortly after they'd stopped the heist at Mega Mountain, the response to it was a bit worse.

But he did like the fact he, his family, and whomever they invited to Mega Mountain got in free. No matter the time of day. That was an amazing perk.

Too bad they didn't get perks like being able to skip school occasionally. It wasn't that Rocky didn't like school, but knowing how many of his friends and classmates had gone to the ninja tournament to watch him and his brothers was something he wasn't looking forward to talking about it. Wasn't looking forward to the reminders that he'd lost, that Colt had lost as well.

As far as their friends and peers knew, they were the best ninjas around. Solving real crimes and stopping real threats. They shouldn't have been beaten so easily.

_I wonder if mom will let me skip. _The thought briefly passed through Rocky's mind, a thought that he simply mulled over, didn't even think of the realm of possibility for it. The first day of school, first day of senior year, can't miss that.

Especially if their father had taken the morning off to ensure that he got one last reminder into his eldest son of how important that year was going to be. He would get his SAT scores back, he would get his ACT scores back, he would start to apply to colleges and hear back from them, his entire future was being set.

What else could his father say that he hadn't reminded him the night before?

"Michael!"

Then again, at least he wasn't being badgered to get out of bed like Tum-Tum was. A late night of binge-eating candy and staying up video chatting friends would do that. Especially if Tum-Tum was the one who, as the year kept going, was to be the one who needed his mother to drive him to work early when he had wrestling practice. It wouldn't keep for very long.

Rocky was sure his parents were already regretting having Tum-Tum join the team with how often either of them had to wake up early to drop him off. Of which Rocky was sure was now going to befall to him, especially when there were days he could start classes late.

There was a knock on Rocky's door the moment he swung his legs out of bed and to the ground. He leaned forward to stretch his back, already feeling the effects of their last summer ninja training from the night before. Whether or not chopping and hauling logs was actual ninja training, Rocky wasn't sure. But some time with their grandfather alone was always awesome.

And their annual end of the year bonfire had been great. It was something their family and the Sargeants have done since they first became neighbors; taking both families to the beach the night before going back to school where they frolicked in the sand, enjoyed the sunshine, had the biggest barbecue with as much food was imaginable complete with a roaring bonfire, laughter, and music. One of the best nights they could ever have.

The knocking on his door was a harsh reality that summer was over and school was starting again.

Rocky ran a hand through his hair, working the sleep from his eyes as he called, "Yeah?"

"Just making sure you're awake," Jessica called back.

"I'm awake."

Rocky glanced at his phone as the push notification light continued to gleam. He picked it up and illuminated the screen. He shuffled by news reports of his favorite sports teams, tweets from twitter accounts he followed, a stack of likes and comments on his Instagram, and focused on the text messages. A few from Jason, who had the habit of texting at all hours of the night no matter if Rocky were to respond, jumping from one topic to another, a few from the group text he had with his brothers and Jo, a few in the group texts he had with his friends, and the most recent from Emily.

**Emily: **Hope you're awake.

Rocky quickly responded: Of course I am.

**Emily: **Don't be late. I'll see you at 7:30.

**Rocky: **When am I ever late?

**Emily: **Do you really want me to answer that?

With an emoji smiling with its tongue sticking out to add punctuation to the text. It made Rocky smile and roll his eyes all the same. She was a punctual person, always found being on time to be a trait that everyone should take seriously. And Rocky tried, he just typically got help up by something one way or another. And as her main ride to school, he almost always copped a 'you're late' the second he pulled up to her driveway with a half-hearted 'Sorry' thrown in, in response.

**Rocky: **No, I get the point. I'll see you.

**Emily: **7:30

**Rocky: **I know!

**Emily: **;)

Rocky tossed his phone aside and moved to get dressed. Thankful for having the foresight to take a shower the night before, it didn't take long to get dressed in a pair of black and white converses and a pair of jeans. He paused, trying to decide between the flannel he'd wear; green and white or blue and white. Not to say that he and his brothers were stuck in their ninja colors like twins would be to be told apart, but he hadn't particularly wanted to wear green.

A stupid thought, really. Didn't want to bring too much attention to himself for those may have gone to the tournament by wearing green. But on the other hand, he didn't wear blue so often considering it'd always been Colt's favorite color before having it as his ninja color. How silly, here he was starting the first day of his last year of high school and he was concerned with what he was going to wear.

Not that he was the only one; for their own reasons, Colt and Tum-Tum would care how they looked too. Both reasons being for girls. As much as Colt insisted he didn't have a girlfriend—there were a few Rocky knew he was "talking to" all summer—and Tum-Tum was in limbo of being an awkward teenage guy how didn't know what to do to get a girlfriend, first impressions were always important.

None of them were too cool for it.

Finally, Rocky finished getting dressed, picked up his baseball cap with a sweep of his hand, and his backpack with the other. He clambered down the stairs to the kitchen, ducking under his mother's arm as she laid one hand flat against Tum-Tum's chest, leaning a cookie jar in her left hand out of his grasp.

"Hi, mom." Rocky moved to Jessica's other side.

"Hi, Rocky," Jessica replied. She turned her head, allowing her eldest to give her a kiss on the cheek. Rocky then took the opportunity to—in a flurry of movement—take the lid off the cookie jar, grab two from the inside, and place the lid back on. "Hey!" Rocky popped a cookie into her his mouth and tossed the other to Tum-Tum, who quickly did the same and grinned. "Not for breakfast."

"Sorry, mom, you know I have to carboload." Tum-Tum then gave his mother a kiss on the opposite cheek as her shoulders dropped in defeat.

With a heavy sigh, Jessica walked to the island and placed the cookie jar down. She looked at her sons with narrowed eyes. "I'm pretty sure cookies don't count as carboloading_._"

"Maybe not, but it's a good breakfast." Rocky flashed his mother a cheeky grin, dropping to his place at the table. Tum-Tum laughed and dropped across from him, reaching out so the two could ex-change a low-five. Lifting his foot, Rocky placed his shoe on the table top and started to tie his laces together. "Blame the growth spurt, mom. It was bound to happen."

"I should've listened when my mom said a house full of boys was going to eat through my money." It was Jessica's turn to give a cheeky smile while her sons both gave cries of outrage. She made quick work of filling up their lunch bags. "Speaking of which, you're all making your lunch from now on."

Rocky shrugged carelessly. Not that he didn't love his mother's efforts to be included in their lives, but it was something that probably should've been stopped ages ago. Then again, had she not made their lunches, she wouldn't have been able to sneak in their favorite treats that their father looked down upon. (Though Rocky knew their father had a secret stash of Snickers in his office drawer).

"Can we just buy our lunch?" Tum-Tum asked.

Jessica gave him a pointed look. "Do you have money for it?"

Tum-Tum hesitated, opening his mouth to think about it. Then he turned with a pout, lowering himself in his chair, busying himself on his phone.

Rocky smirked. "That's a 'no'," Rocky pointed out to their mom. Tum-Tum simply stuck his tongue out at his brother in response. Quick as a flash, Rocky whipped out his phone and took Tum-Tum's picture. "I'm going to post it to Instagram," Rocky threatened.

Tum-Tum merely shrugged. He didn't even look up when Jessica placed a plate full of food in front of him, thumbs twiddling away at his phone.

Jessica exchanged a glance with Rocky—pausing briefly to swat his foot off the table—and placed a plate in front of him before getting food for the rest of her family. Rocky instantly clocked onto Tum-Tum's change in demeanor and grinned. "Who are you talking to?" He asked casually.

Tum-Tum grunted and shrugged again. He put his phone in his pocket and sat up straight to start shoveling eggs into his mouth. He chewed for a few minutes before saying with an almost smug smile, "Sheila," he said. "She's meeting me before school starts."

"You going to trade spit ball tips?" Colt dropped haphazardly into his seat next to Rocky, dumping his backpack to the floor with a low, resounding 'thud'. Rocky winced, hearing the familiar clatter of Colt's cleats hitting the ground and gave a surreptitious look to his mother.

It didn't look like she'd notice, saving them from another 'no cleats in the kitchen' lecture that sent them scattering in all directions.

"At least I have someone who wants to spit ball with me," Tum-Tum shot back.

Rocky tried and failed to keep his laughter from spilling from his lips. He tried in vain to cover it by drinking some of his orange juice, but nearly choked on it. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Colt wrinkle his nose and shoot a look toward Tum-Tum, a petulant look that warned everyone around him a curse was about to sprinkle his vocabulary.

So much so that Jessica raised a warning eyebrow and Colt slumped back into his seat. Instead, he picked up a grape and bounced it off the table toward Tum-Tum, striking him in the middle of the forehead.

"Hey!" Tum-Tum cried, grabbing his forehead as if he'd been shot.

Rocky finally recovered from his choking and elbow Colt in the side. "Not shot."

"I've been practicing."

"Mom!" Tum-Tum continued to shout.

"I know you're teenage boys but I'm not above separating you three if I have to," Jessica warned, making the three calm down. "In light of other news, Colt, while you were lollygagging, I was telling your brothers that you're packing your own lunch or buying your own from now on."

"Oh." Colt looked suspiciously at the bag in front of him. "Does that mean dad made lunch today?"

"I heard that." Sam breezed into the kitchen, pulling his suit jacket over a button-down shirt and tie. Rocky glanced at his father. Even in a rush he managed to be smartly dressed. _"Always make a good first impression," _he reminded them. "And, no, I didn't make lunch for you today. I thought we were in understanding that you were to make or buy your own lunch from now on."

"We got the message loud and clear," Colt said. He leveled his gaze at Tum-Tum and said seriously, "Tum's going to starve," making the entire family start laughing.

Rocky settled into his seat, eating breakfast quickly, while alternating looking at the time on his phone, as the conversation shifted to their baseball practice after school. Still playing as part of their father's city team while also doing their ninja training and their own sports and activities at school. It was no wonder their mom said that as soon as they got their licenses she'd stop driving them where they needed to go. It made Rocky's head hurt just thinking about how many different directions they were going to be pulled.

"And if you play well enough, you may even be able to go to school on baseball scholarships," Sam said with a warm grin to all three of his sons.

"Sam," Jessica warned, lifting an eyebrow.

With a bulging cheek, Sam shrugged. "What? I'm just saying it's not a bad idea if they get some scholarships."

"I thought you said we didn't have to worry about paying for school," Colt commented.

Rocky lifted his chin, keeping his head down enough so that his fringe covered his face. It had been something his parents had reassured him about time and time again. They had enough money—especially with the raise that Sam had received when being promoted to the FBI Director—that they wouldn't have to worry about affording any amount of higher education they wanted to receive.

"We do," Sam agreed. He exchanged a look with Jessica, or, at least tried to. His wife looked away, as if suddenly very interested in the food on her plate. Sam's eyes narrowed, a flash of annoyance moving over his face. "I'm just saying it always looks good on college applications if you've got a good amount of extracurriculars and if you get into a good school on a sports scholarship, well…" he spread his hands. "You're bound to go far."

"And, you know, baseball is a way of life," Colt agreed, nodding emphatically. "There's a lot you can learn on the baseball field."

"Exactly! Good one, Jeffrey." Sam lifted his hand and gave his middle son a high-five, seeming not to notice the light teasing sent his way. Or else ignoring it.

Tum-Tum quickly changed the subject, squirming in his seat. "What? Did you piss yourself?" Colt asked, immediately ducking his head when Sam swung a hand to cuff the back of his head and Rocky and their mother gave him identical warning looks.

"Where's grandpa?" Tum-Tum asked.

Jessica pressed her lips together. "Still asleep," she said, voice lowering to almost a whisper.

"I want to say goodbye."

"Well, you're not going to have enough time before we're late," Rocky said, looking at the face of his phone again. Just a few more minutes and he'd be home free. A full conversation without having to hear, "College applications", "Your grades are more important now than ever", "You need to think about setting up your future", and "When you get to UCLA"…

They'd always had the rule, since they were old enough to get out of their beds early in the morning, that they were to not wake up their parents for anything other than an emergency. Which gave way to many, many early mornings of Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum watching cartoons with the volume on low until something set them off and their exuberant yelling woke their parents up later. Eventually, the rule extended to their grandpa, not until after the time Tum-Tum had gotten in trouble for sneaking into his room and getting Pop Tart crumbs everywhere.

"I'm sure he doesn't want strawberry filling smeared all over his bed," Colt added.

"Jerk," Tum-Tum snapped.

"Bigger jerk," Colt shot back.

"Knock it off," Rocky said quickly. He picked up his finished plate and glass, rinsing them off before putting them into the dishwasher. "Come on, we have to get going."

Colt made a face, looking at his own phone. "We still have time."

"No, we don't. We have to pick up Emily," Rocky said. "And, I don't know about you, but I don't want to have her lecture me about being late again. Especially when it's your fault this time." He reached out and grabbed Colt's shoulder as he started to pass him, noticing a somewhat familiar scent wafting off him. "Are you wearing dad's cologne?"

Colt clenched his jaw and looked at Rocky, widening his eyes in a signal that clearly read _I can't believe you did that. _Then he closed his eyes when he heard Sam sigh and say, "How many times do I have to tell you to ask first?"

"I didn't think you'd care, dad," Colt shot back. "This is the one that mom's allergic to."

Jessica turned to her husband. "I thought you said you threw that one out."

"Why would I throw it you? You were the one who gave it to me."

"And do you remember how much I was sneezing before we figured it out?"

"It was adorable. You make cute sneezes."

At the same time Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum gave identical horrified expressions before rushing from the kitchen, calling to their parents as they went. Rocky snagged his keys from the front door and ushered his brothers to his truck. He climbed into the front seat and started up the engine as Tum-Tum hauled himself into the back.

Colt pushed the seat back up and started to climb into the passenger side when Rocky shook his head. "Uh-uh," he declared. Colt stared at him. Rocky jerked his thumb over his shoulder, keeping his eyes forward, ignoring the resulting burning holes in the side of his head. "Get in the back."

"You can't be serious," Colt replied.

"As a heart attack. Get in the back. Emily's sitting up front."

"Oh come, Rock, make her sit in the back."

"We're already late as it is. And, considering I'm a senior, I can afford to be late." Rocky challenged Colt with an upward tick of his eyebrow. "Can you?"

Frowning, Colt grabbed his backpack and heaved it into the back row. He stepped onto the seats and jumped over, ignoring Rocky's cries of protests. Rocky rolled his eyes and pulled away from the curb, giving two sharp horn blasts in farewell as their father hurried out the front door to go to work as well. Sam waved after them, his figure disappearing the moment Rocky pulled out of the neighborhood.

The second his father's image was gone, he felt himself relax, shoulders slumping and all the muscles in his back loosening. Rocky leaned back in his seat, grasping the steering wheel with one hand and fiddling with the radio with the other.

As they drove along, the three boys sang loudly to the radio, headbanging and really getting into the music as they went. Rocky turned it down when he pulled in front of Emily's house, finding her already standing at the foot of the driveway, head bent over her phone. When he pulled up, she opened the passenger door, bounced inside and sang, "You're la-ate."

"I know," Rocky replied. He jerked his head toward the backseat. "You can blame Colt this time."

"Really?" Emily looked surprised, looking over her shoulder. "Hi guys."

"Hi, Em," Colt replied.

"Hi," Tum-Tum agreed.

"You were the one who was late this time, Colt?" Emily looped her arm around the back of the seat to see the other boys. She shifted her eyes towards the youngest Douglas brother. "Normally it's Tum-Tum making us late."

"Technically he still did." Colt smirked and folded his arms. "Mom was yelling at him so much that I kept trying to sleep. I guess I over did it a little."

Emily faced the front once more, grinning over her shoulder when Rocky said, "At least it wasn't me this time." She rolled her eyes, holding up her phone. "Yeah, yeah, don't be such a showoff, Rocky," and aimed it toward him.

Rocky quickly gave a smile as she took the picture and uploaded it. "I hope you make me look good," he commented.

"You always look good, Rocky," Emily replied.

Rocky felt a faint blush move to his cheeks, didn't respond. Didn't know how to, really. It wasn't a strange comment to make. She always made lighthearted remarks to his looks and he always reassured her that she looked good when she felt she was having a particularly bad day.

But there was always a sense of pressure he felt behind her words. As if he had to mean his responses to her or else they'd be hollow, or else, maybe, he'd be leading her on in some way. But…it did feel good to hear.

"Back atcha, Em," Rocky finally replied.

He saw the look Colt and Tum-Tum exchanged in the rearview mirror. It didn't take too long for the quiet whispers to start. "Rocky loves Emily," Tum-Tum whispered quietly under his breath. It didn't take more than a half second for Colt to join in on the whisper. "Rocky loves Emily. Rocky loves Emily."

If Emily noticed, she didn't otherwise react. How often had that same mantra been used before? On nearly every girl Rocky had been interested in, and even on Jo once upon a time. (And there was that incident when he had a thing for the substitute teacher freshmen year, but they'd at least listened to his threats of serious bodily harm if they didn't shut up).

Rocky ignored them, only smiling when he turned sharply on the steering wheel to practically flatten his brothers into their seats at the speed he turned the corner. He turned his hat to the front, allowing himself to rest his head against the headrest, a large grin sliding over his face.

The cityscape of LA loomed in the distance as they breezed through the suburbs, heading toward their school. Warm sunlight rolled over his truck, only briefly cut up by the shadows of the palm trees lining the streets. As warm as a bath and rising the spirits of the four friends, lifting their spirits, despite summer being over and the school year just a few minutes away from starting.

Rocky pulled into the senior parking lot and parked. Colt and Tum-Tum blasted out of the backseat and hurried across the sidewalk to their friends while Rocky and Emily took their time. Rocky glanced at his phone and asked, "Do you think Jase is having car trouble?" There was a slight tinge of worry to his tone.

With a roll of her eyes, Emily said, "If he does, I hope it's the wakeup call he needs to final get a new car. Did I tell you that while you were at your grandfather's place that he blocked traffic four separate times because it broke down?" She swung her purse to her front, shoving her phone into a side pocket.

Something bright caught Rocky's eye. "What's that?" He zeroed in on the bright green packet in the pocket of her bag.

Emily stared at him. "You know, there's some things that girls have to use when…" she burst out laughing at Rocky's embarrassed grimace. "'I'm kidding." She pulled it out and turned it left and right, the sunlight catching the brightness of the foil. "It's a free sample. Some vitamin thing I got from the MedoCal booth while at the tournament. Sounds pretty good."

"I wouldn't take anything you can't read the ingredients of," Rocky warned her.

"Ingredients are easy to read. All natural. At least that's what it says. I haven't tried any of it yet. If they're giving it away at an event like this, it can't be that bad." She then noticed the almost passive expression on his face. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You're not still thinking about the tournament, are you?"

"No." It was the truth that time. And yet, Emily continued to stare at the side of his face, waiting for him to break down and tell the truth. "I promise," he added.

"Okay." Emily nodded and unfurled her arms. "So, I want you to promise me something." Rocky shrugged and nodded. "It our last year here. Probably out last year together." Rocky started to protest—he did _not _want to think about that—but Emily kept going. "We need to make sure it's our best one. Alright?"

She didn't say more than that. Didn't have to. He knew exactly what she meant.

Rocky smiled and nodded. "Alright."


	11. Never A Coincidence

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

"Yo, Sam!"

Rocky whirled around, almost pitching over from the weight shift of the books in his backpack sliding him over. He grinned and lifted his chin in greeting, waiting for Jason to get closer. He watched as Jason finally reached his side, just in time for his backpack to burst open, sending his books flying. Passing students scrambled to get out the way of the projectiles that skittered across the ground of the hallway like spiders.

"Sorry," Jason called over the din of the murmured voices and laughter.

"Having a bad day?" Rocky bent and helped his friend to gather all the books, papers, and school supplies to shove back into his backpack. He nearly tipped over, feeling his own books shift forward, sliding his backpack towards his head.

"Why would you say that?" Jason asked. Finally, the two scrambled to get everything together and stood out of the way of the flowing crowd of students. "Because I'm back at this hell hole?"

"'Because you're _late," _Rocky pointed out, ignoring those trying to squeeze by him.

And more importantly, ignoring the fact that it was the first day of school and Jason was _already _complaining. Then again, there was hardly a day that went by since they met where he didn't complain about school in one way or another. Not that it was a foreign concept to him, Colt and Tum-Tum complained about school when they weren't in their favorite classes, hell, even some of the teachers Rocky didn't prefer made school a living nightmare as polite as Rocky tried to be.

But school and Jason never seemed to mix. And Jason was never afraid to let it known. Rocky wasn't sure what he'd do after college, but it more than likely wasn't going to be anything in higher learning.

"Oh, that." Jason hefted his backpack up his shoulders and grinned. "I don't have class first period, so I could stay home." He sighed heavily. "It's just as well, my car conked out again on my way in." Rocky laughed and fell in step with Jason, the two moving along with the crowd to get to their class. "I'm telling you, man. Once I get my car fixed, there'll be nothing stopping me from getting away from this place."

"I don't think you'll get very far, skipping school so much," Rocky pointed out. "You know, with truancy and all that."

"I see your dad's been putting the fear of God into your head again," Jason said sardonically. Rocky rolled his eyes when Jason pressed his hand on Rocky's head and pushed his hat down over his eyes. "You've really got to get out from under that shadow, dude. You're _really _starting to look like a mini-me. Next thing I know, you'll come to school wearing blazers and ties, yelling at us for getting dirt on your suit."

"Oh please." Rocky made a face. Things would never get _that _far. He was still his own person. _Are you? _The nagging thought came into his mind. He quickly wiped it away, changing the subject. "And what would you do? Drop out of school?"

"Get my GED and make my career playing video games."

Rocky started to protest then stopped. It wasn't such a bad idea, honestly. Jason was one of the best video game players he'd ever seen. Sure, he played with his brothers and was excited when new installments of some of his favorite games came out, but Jason had it all down to a science. He liked trying to figure out all the secrets, nooks, and crannies within each game. He liked to figure out the bugs that games had and exploit them. He won almost every video game tournament he and their friends had, even the impromptu ones that showed up at parties. If there was anyone who could make a career out of video games, it was him.

"I know that look." Rocky looked up sharply. He didn't know he had a look. "I know you don't think it's going to work out," Jason said. He nodded earnestly. "But I'm going to make it work. I don't want to do anything else."

"Well, if you ever need my help…" Rocky trailed off with a shrug. His mind was too far away. Had he given a look? Had he made a face? It wasn't that he didn't believe Jason could do it but…giving up high school for something that may not work out? That'd be like…if he gave up high school for ninja.

The thought along made him cringe. So far, no one had mentioned the ninja tournament. He was embarrassed, in a way. A big part of him thought he was good at ninja and still believed it. Nevertheless, how good can you be when you were simply training with your grandfather. Who—Rocky had a sneaking suspicion—made up parts of their ninja training as ways for him to teach them the lessons of life that they may or may not have listened to coming from their father.

Rocky snapped back to attention when he noticed Jason's smirk. "I'm glad you said that. Because I need a favor."

It took only a few seconds of simply looking at his best friend that Rocky knew what was being asked of him. He scowled. "I'm not doing your homework for you."

"What's the point of having those freaky ninja powers that you've got going on if you're not going to use it? It would really help with getting school work done."

"You watch too much TV."

"I've seen you chop a head of lettuce in two seconds, you can't tell me that it hasn't helped you with your school work."

"Not when I've got mom and dad constantly checking it after me," Rocky replied, bitterness creeping into his tone before he could stop it. He noticed Jason look at him funny then took a step back in conversation. "And what homework did you not do? The reading?" It took only a second longer for the answer to clock onto him. "You didn't do any of your AP homework!" Jason grinned sheepishly. "We're on our way to class now."

"That's what was taking me so long to get here. I was trying to get the rest of it done and then was on my way and my car kept stalling and I was hoping you'd help me because I didn't finish and—"

"—Sorry, man, you're on your own."

Rocky sped up, walking closer to their waiting classroom with Jason on his heels. He ignored his friend's protests as he slipped inside and went to an empty desk. He placed his backpack to the ground and started to take out all his supplies for the class with Jason slumping into a seat next to him.

"Who thought it was a good idea to take this class anyway?" Jason grumbled, resting his cheek in his palm.

Rocky looked at him as if he were crazy. "You did. You signed up for it, too."

"Yeah, to keep your company while _your_ parents made _you_ sign up."

"They didn't _make _me…" Rocky trailed off. It wasn't quite his idea. That was the truth. Sort of. Signing up for AP Government and Politics wasn't his idea. AP English, he didn't mind as much. Honestly, while it wasn't his favorite class by any means—he didn't really have one—it was one of the ones he didn't stress out about as much.

"Okay, but it wasn't much of a conversation." Jason grabbed his things together and strew them haphazardly across the top of his desk. "I was there, remember? It was like they were talking _at_ you, not _to_ you." He paused. "No, it was like you checked out while they talked to you and you came back to life when you had to answer their questions or respond in some way."

"Whatever, man." Rocky grinned back at him. "It's better than saying everything on my mind. How many detentions did you get last year because you talked back to teachers?"

"Twenty, but that's not the point."

Jason looked up and nodded as Amanda Warren walked past, blonde hair streaming behind her shoulders, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose to the seat toward the middle of the classroom. The only seat she ever sat in. Rocky smiled at her, prompting her to smile back. They didn't talk as much as they used to.

After her helping him and his brothers to take down Medusa and the others at Mega Mountain, their grandfather had extended the invitation for her to learn some ninja along with them. Amanda agreed to it and eagerly worked alongside them in a lavender gi and learned all the basics. But as they moved along in school, Amanda found herself falling more and more in love with her science and technological advances, moving on to lead the science and computer science clubs and teams, not having too much time for ninja anymore.

But she was still there to help them if they ever needed it and vice versa. Plus, Rocky wasn't entirely sure if Amanda had gotten over her crush on Colt. She'd been more than disappointed—visibly—when she found out he was dating Jo. Colt wasn't completely oblivious to girls that he didn't figure it out and tried to talk to Amanda about it, she put on a brave face and said things were fine between them.

Emily had told Rocky later that Amanda was upset and hoped she'd get over her crush soon. Whether she did or not, Rocky didn't know, it was around the time Amanda stopped hanging out with them. Then again, he didn't think Jennifer would've wanted to hang out with him either, after they broke up.

They were friendly, but not enough that Rocky could ask her for help.

Rocky was broken out of his thoughts when he heard the door to the class room opened, allowing the teacher to come inside. Immediately, Rocky reached up and pulled his hat from his head and placed it on the floor by his backpack. Straightening, he sat back and slumped in his seat, tapping his pen against his notebook.

He typically paid attention in class, but the first day was always so uneventful. Syllabuses read in their entirety to make sure the students understood the way the class worked. The class was then explained, everything to a T about how they would do their writing, how their tests would be administered. How, at the end of the year, they'd be doing their AP Exams and how the class would work towards college credit.

Blah, blah.

He heard the same thing in his AP Government class. And, he'd hear the same in all his classes. Honestly, if it weren't for the office calling his parents, he would've skipped school that day, just hang out with his brothers and do whatever they wanted.

_You'd never skip school. _He could practically hear Colt's laughter in his ears from the thought alone. He wouldn't have skipped the first _day _anyway. But there had been many other times where he wanted nothing more than to see what a random day off school had for him.

Rocky stared at his notebook, continuing to scribble in the corners of the page. Then he changed to start writing in Japanese, just to get some practice. Rocky leaned forward and focused on the Japanese characters he worked hard to make sure looked right. He started out by practicing his name, 'Samuel' and then 'Rocky' in kanji before shifting to do his brother's names.

Finding out how to do 'Tum-Tum' in kanji was always difficult. There wasn't a word for 'Tummy' in Japanese. And 'stomach' was weird enough. Rocky would've written 'food' but if he ever had to introduce his brother in Japanese, he was sure he'd receive more than enough weird looks. It took long enough for 'Tum-Tum' to stop giving a sideways glance.

(Though it certainly helped knowing it was his birthday that had brought the boys to Mega Mountain and supplemented them with free trips in the first place. Still, Tum-Tum didn't mind being called 'Mike' or 'Mikey' as the years went on).

On and on he wrote, seamlessly writing the kanji he'd grown to learn over the years, and working hard on those that were tricky for him. Hearing sudden silence, he looked up and shifted his papers aside, in case the teacher walked over to demand to know what he was writing. The shifting of his papers made a rustling sound, loud enough over the writing the teacher was placing on the board, for some eyes to turn his way.

He looked back, then started, finding a pair of blue eyes looking back at him, slightly widening in recognition. It took Rocky a second to place her. The girl from the pizza shop. Riley. Rocky suddenly felt very relieved he saw her again in a school setting rather than sweating like a hog in the pizza shop or suffering an embarrassing defeat in the ninja tournament.

She smiled at him, removing her cheek from her upraised palm before facing forward again. Rocky smiled back, turning his attention back to his writing. The rest of class went by in a blur, only driving the same point home he'd heard since taking an honors class the year before; their grades that year would influence their future.

Blah, blah, blah.

The bell rang thirty minutes later, offering Rocky a slight reprieve. Jason, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. He frantically scribbled his answers to finish the rest of the homework he'd neglected to finish the night before, barely finishing before they gathered their papers together and passed it forward. Finally, they were given that night's homework, to read the entirety of the Scarlett Letter by the next time they met; in a few days' time.

Rocky bent to scoop his hat off the ground, pulling his backpack to his lap as he did so.

"You wrote stomachache."

Quick as a flash, Rocky snapped his head up to see Riley leaned over his desk, glancing at the kanji he'd written. He blinked and asked, "What?"

Riley's lips pulled back into a smile—or was it a smirk? Only one side of her mouth turned up—and she reached out, tapping her finger against the spot he'd been writing Tum-Tum's name. "You wrote stomachache," she explained. "Not stomach." Rocky blinked again, this time in surprise when flawless Japanese escaped her lips as she read the words in front of her. She tilted her head, raven hair falling into her face, blue eyes squinting momentarily. "I'm guessing you're trying to write Tum-Tum."

"Yeah," Rocky agreed. "I haven't really figured it out yet."

"You'll get it, it does take a tick to get the hang of it, yeah?" Riley took the pencil from his hand—he did his best not to let the burning over his hand creep to his ears. He could see Jason smirking out the corner of his eye. She erased the one he'd been writing and re-wrote it for him. "There you are."

"Thanks." Rocky took the sheet and carefully placed it in his backpack. "What are you…uh…I mean…"

Riley's smirk-smile widened. She curled her hand around the strap of her backpack that hung off one shoulder. "Hi, Sam," she greeted him. Rocky pursed his lips. She lifted her fingers in a quick apology. "I mean, Rocky."

"It's fine," Rocky said quickly. "Hi. I'm just…What are you doing here?" He finally managed to spit the question out.

Riley looked around the classroom as if it were the first time she noticed it. "I reckon going to school," she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow upwards. A teasing lift then came to her voice, her eyes flashing with mischief. "Or do you mean in life? Because you'll have to ask my parents that one if yours hasn't already explained it to you, mate"

Feeling his face flush, Rocky looked away then jumped, noticing Jason standing next to him, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, this is Jason. Jason this is Riley." Rocky gestured between the two.

"Hey, how ya going?" Riley shook Jason's hand politely. Jason responded in kind then Riley motioned to Rocky and explained the unasked question, "We met at the tournament. He got accosted by my parents at their MedoCal booth."

"Oh, you have to watch how those booth runners are," Jason pointed out. "They don't seem to take no for answer."

"Only when they're trying to sell you something," Riley agreed. "And my dad is an excellent salesman." She looked up, eyebrows furrowing when she heard the bell ringing again, appearing almost annoyed as she did so.

Jason took a wide berth around her, taking long strides from the room. Rocky and Riley followed him. "Late bell," he explained. "If we don't get to our next class in five minutes, we're going to be late."

"Well, I won't waste your time then," Riley said. She started to back away, almost bouncing as she went. Rocky couldn't help but notice the amount of energy she gave off. Even when looking around, it appeared that her eyes were laughing at him or looking to see the next thing she was ready to experience.

Rocky stepped forward, noticing her glance at the doors of the classrooms to find numbers on them, and called after her, "Do you need help? School's pretty big, it can be kind of hard to figure things out." He felt Jason nudge him in the side and he nudged him back, shooting a glare out the corner of his eye. "Do you have Mrs. Hutchins next? They usually follow Science right after English."

"No." Riley's nose wrinkled as she thought, briefly turning her gaze to the ceiling. "I've got…Mr. Petrakis."

Jason lifted an eyebrow. "Mr. Petrakis?" He repeated.

Even Rocky couldn't help but screw up his face in confusion. He remembered having classes with Mr. Petrakis. He wasn't a bad teacher by any means but was serious in what it was he wanted out of his students. While others were too busy on their phones, heads practically buried in their laps, there was never a cell phone in sight in his class. Too many followed up threats of detention for even glancing at it.

"Oh!" Riley's face cleared, understanding the confusion. "I'm a year 11, not a year 12." Rocky and Jason exchanged glances. "It's 'junior' here, right?"

Rocky suddenly thought about Colt, wondered how his first day went. It wouldn't be the first time Rocky was called to the principal's office in lieu of their parents on the first day due to Colt's attitude where he'd then have to promise "Colt's attitude will change, he won't do it again," and then promise not to say anything to their parents about it. (They didn't need to know everything). And Colt had gotten better about his attitude over the years. Nevertheless, one too many rolls of the eyes at unfavorable subject matter could tick off any level-headed teacher. Colt had been better about it over the years, nevertheless, Rocky couldn't help but worry about his brother.

Almost as if knowing his name was being called, Rocky spotted Colt's tall stature suddenly emerge from the crowd, heading his way. A sea of girls' eyes followed Colt as he went, if he noticed, Colt didn't make a big show of it. Though the flash in his eyes that Rocky noticed from a mile away was a sure sign.

"Hey," Rocky greeted his brother, lifting his chin. "How was class?"

"Cake." Colt reached out his hand and the two did a complicated high-five. "First days always are. A waste of time if you ask me." He stepped back and jostled Riley. He apologized, quickly moving aside. Then did a double take, looking over his shoulder. "I just saw you back there, how'd you get here so fast?" Riley face screwed up in confusion. "You were _literally _just behind me—"

"Oh, that was Rhu," Riley explained. "Not me. I was in English."

"Yeah, man, we just walked out with her," Jason agreed. He reached out and cuffed Colt's shoulder. "First day and they're already breaking you down, Jeff." He grinned over at Rocky. "I think you should keep an eye on this one, dude. I know we joke about him losing his mind, but I think he's actually, finally, lost it."

Colt shoved him on the arm. "Ha ha."

"Shouldn't you be in your next class by now?" Rocky prompted. That seemed to have spurned on Jason, who looked at his phone, grimaced, and sped off down the hall.

Colt on the other hand, simply rolled his eyes and said, "Thanks, dad," a bit saucily. "I just wanted to let you know that Jo wants to talk with us at lunch." He angled his head towards Riley and added, "About some stuff."

Rocky understood immediately. If Jo wanted to talk privately, then it had to have something to do with Jack. And the last thing they needed was anyone listening in on their conversation or trying to join in on their adventures. (Tum-Tum had bragged about it enough after their summer from Mega Mountain that they had wannabe ninjas on their tails for months).

"Got it," Rocky agreed. "Now, get to class. Don't be late."

Colt simply rolled his eyes and sauntered off, taking his sweet time. Rocky gritted his teeth, watching his brother go, knowing Colt was moving slowly on purpose to wind him up. As it was, it took everything in him to stop himself from barking after Colt to move faster. _Just like dad, _he thought, knowing how it never worked out in the end. Being a soundboard for Colt was a role Rocky liked to play, but sometimes it was exhausting. He didn't want to be the reason for it this time.

"You're the oldest, aren't you?" Riley's question caught his attention. He turned to her with raised eyebrows, prompting Riley to point after Colt. "Out of you and your brothers, you're the oldest, yeah?"

"Yeah," Rocky agreed. "How'd you know?"

Riley's smirk-smile widened. "Eldest siblings can always tell. I reckon it's the constant worry that you're getting shafted on house rules again."

Rocky laughed. "You're right."

"Or the constant pressure hanging over your shoulders."

Rocky's laughter slowly faded as he looked at her curiously. Riley simply looked back at him—or rather, seemed to look right through him—before motioning over her shoulder with her thumb. "I have to get to class or I'll be late. It was good to see you again, Rocky."

"Yeah, you too. Oh." Rocky suddenly remember. "Uh, thanks for the help." Riley's eyebrows rose curiously. "With the Japanese, I mean. If you hadn't have helped me, I would've been calling Tum-Tum stomachache all the time."

She lifted and lowered her right shoulder in a shrug. "I don't know, I'm sure there are plenty of other interesting names you could call someone." She folded her arms. "What would you call me?"

Rocky opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by the bell ringing and the doors to the classrooms slamming shut, echoing down the hall. He had to get to his class fast or he'd be late himself. "Bye," he said to her.

Riley gave the peace sign back before jogging down the hallway, slowing to a speed walk when the hall monitor walked around the corner. Rocky hesitated, watching her leave.

His stomach squirmed.

He couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing.

His past experiences told him that coincidences were never truly coincidences. And as far as he was concerned, Jack wasn't that smart. Nevertheless, Rocky couldn't help but be a little suspicious.

Something was going on and he couldn't quite tell what it was.

But he was going to get to the bottom of it.


	12. Tension

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

Colt didn't mention to Rocky that he'd run into Darren and Darryl just before bumping into him and Jason. There was no point, he knew. No matter what he said, Rocky would immediately demand if he ended up fighting them. Completely ignoring the fact that Colt hadn't gotten into a fight at school in ages.

Especially as their mother had gone good with her threat of keeping him from his car, his computer, his telephone, and anything that'd ever make it so that he enjoyed himself. For a solid month he did nothing but schoolwork by hand, work on cars for hours on end, and watch as his soccer team managed to get to the playoffs before getting to play again. After that, he made sure to be on his best behavior, no matter how many times Darren and Darryl managed to poke and prick at him.

And for what, he wondered. There was nothing Colt could think of that he and his brothers had done to take on their bullies' ire. Other than continuously getting back at them when the time came. Multiple baseball games and basketball games they'd been challenged to, having to use their ninja skills against them once or twice.

Or else, Colt rationalized, they'd picked on the boys simply because of Colt's emotions. No matter what he felt, anger, sadness, anxiety, worry typically came out in aggression. He remembered a few times when he was young being told to sit outside the principal's office in that rickety chair as they called his parents, all because he'd get a little overemotional with his fear of public speaking and worrying that people were laughing at him. One whisper here, a quiet titter there, and he was yelling at the jerks to shut up and let him speak.

Once Darren and Darryl had noticed, they picked on Colt as much as possible. With Tum-Tum being a big mouth who acted bigger than his britches despite his small stature and an older brother who could be a bit of a stick in the mud who told him to run more than fight, it didn't surprise Colt that the school's bullies continued to mess with him. It all came to a head when Rocky became interested in Darren's on-off girlfriend, Lisa DiMarino, hopeful that things would work out between them once she realized how much of a jerk Darren truly was.

She didn't.

She and Rocky never happened and Darren had a bounty on the heads of the two elder Douglas brothers even more since then. Colt had hoped, in the back of his mind, that the first day would have had them mellow out a little bit.

But as he sat in his AP Geography class, Darren ran his hands over his man bun with a fade on the side—one of the douchiest cuts he could have, though Colt felt it made sense for him—and crumpled up a ball of paper before tossing it towards Colt where it soared past him and harmlessly bounced against Brett's backpack as he moved into the classroom.

Brett looked at the ball, at Colt, then at Darren who laughed and high-fived Darryl, palms collecting in a loud slap. "There's a reason you haven't made the basketball team man, and you just proved it."

Darryl, then, ran a hand over his face, scratching at the slight mustache that sprouted on his darker skin and let out a resounding, "Shut up,".

"Good one," Colt taunted back. "I'm glad all those years of summer school has managed to expand your vocabulary." Darren lobbed another paper ball toward him, all he could do while the teacher stood at the back of the class, ignoring their students in the last moment before class started, getting the lesson plan together. Colt knocked it down without a second of thought. "What's up?" He peered at Brett closely. "You look like shit, dude."

Brett briefly glanced at the ceiling, a sardonic expression that he used when he felt he couldn't openly roll his eyes or express displeasure—his parents had greatly instilled politeness in him from a young age—then leveled his eyes at Colt. "That's because I was up all night working on your computer."

"Is it done yet?"

Brett spread his hands. "Does it look like I am?"

"Well, what's taking so long?" Colt let out a heavy sigh, tilting his head back so far, he felt a crick in his neck. "My parents are going to kill me. I told them I'd keep up with my homework this year and I can't do it if I don't have my computer." He lowered his chin and added, "Dad doesn't let anyone in his office, mom's is always at work, I can't use Tum-Tum's without my hands having a layer of Cheeto dust on it and Rocky's really protective of his."

"Why? What does he have to hide?"

"Beats me. The last time I tried to use his computer, he practically bit my head off. And he has two of them, it's not like he needs the other one!" Colt threw his hands into the air.

Brett chuckled. "I just need to run one more program to ensure the firewall can't be breached and your computer will be good as new. Between you and me, you should be really careful of navigating to some sites you shouldn't be looking at." He laughed louder when Colt elbowed him in the side. "But seriously, what'd you do to shut your computer down so easily?"

Colt shrugged and gave a sly smile. "I guess I was looking at some stuff I shouldn't have been looking at."

He couldn't quite tell Brett the truth despite him knowing of what happened with Jack before. Hell, the moment Colt came back from that summer vacation he blurted everything out to his best friend. But with Jack now being back in LA, he couldn't just jump to conclusions and say anything was wrong. At least, he couldn't have until they asked their dad, who mentioned Jack was starting his empire once more.

So far, Jack hadn't said a peep in the press, but it was only a matter of time until he did something to get back into the spotlight, let alone potentially kill anyone else Colt surmised. Did he want his father to know he was looking into Jack through some shadier websites? No, definitely not. And it wasn't quite his fault, anyway. Between their father showing them sites they should avoid and many sleepovers with Brett laughing quietly at their searches on the internet, it was only a matter of time until Colt put the talent to good use.

Of course, Brett was better at that sort of thing, but if there was anything illegal Colt may have accidentally stumbled upon, at least he had his dad to help him get out of it. Brett wouldn't have that luxury. Colt didn't want to be responsible for sending his friend to prison.

Not that he thought it'd be so bad, having been held hostage on a navy ship and in a Japanese prison made things like that a lot easier to handle. But they'd never faced anyone form their past like that before…they'd never had any of them come back.

In dreams and nightmares, maybe, but never in reality…

After that, the class went along relatively normally. Colt didn't pay too much attention. There wasn't much to pay attention to on the first day. At least, for the first half of the class. The second half, the teacher had the students go to a map and explain where they were born, where their hometowns were, and trace their lineage back to the country that their parents said their relatives were from.

As per usual, Colt got the same question when he stated his grandfather was from Japan—why didn't he look Japanese? In always a slightly accusatory tone. Like he'd ever lie about his linage to be more interesting. Colt took the question with stride, explaining how his own mother was half-Japanese and was mistaken to not be. Darren and Darryl, of course, made low karate noises under their breath as Colt did his explanation. Brett's answer was simple, he was born in California, raised in California, and as far as he remembered, all his family was from California.

Then it was the new girl's turn to go—Colt was a bit embarrassed it took him until almost the end of the class to remember it was Rhuben, and that he'd seen her at the ninja tournament—and explained her family was from Australia—from her father, Japan—from her mother, as well as America—from her mother.

_Explains why they were all at the tournament, _Colt thought. _Strange that she ended up here, out of all the high schools in the city… _He wasn't vain enough to think it was for him. And while he—unbeknownst to him at the time—wasn't as suspicious as Rocky was—it was a bit of a weird coincidence how quickly they'd come face to face again.

Colt watched her as she moved back to her desk, not looking at him as she passed his desk. Not that she was the first girl not to be interested in him, there had been a few here and there. And while Colt would never consider himself a heartthrob in any way, the infamy of being one of the '3 Ninjas' did bring some wanted and unwanted attention.

The response from the class was fine, nevertheless. Everyone had a chance to speak about their family. And while thigs were relatively quiet, Colt knew it was only a matter of time until Darren and Daryl started up again. He was proven right when the second the bell rang Colt stood up to gather his things and leave the room and Darren sauntered to Colt's side.

Colt, half squatting over his seat, had to move quickly to keep falling on his ass when Darryl, hidden behind Darren, kicked Colt's seat out from beneath him. Colt glanced at the seat that skidded across the floor then looked back to the boys saying, "Really? Is that the best you can do?"

He didn't fight as much as he used to, but that didn't mean Cot could keep his mouth shut when being provoked. As it was, he could hear Rocky's warning _"Colt," _in the back of his mind, spurring him even further.

"You've got enough lip, _pony boy," _Darren intoned, folding his arms. Colt mentally rolled his eyes. How much longer would he have to be subjected to 'pony boy' before they came up with anything better? Even some of the mooks he and his brothers had come up against managed to come up with better stuff. "We were just wondering what else that mouth is good for." He nodded toward the chair. "How about getting on your knees."

Brett lifted an eyebrow. "I think that says more about you than it does about him," he pointed out.

Darryl placed his hand over Brett's face, pushing him back. "He wasn't talking to you, Poindexter! Stay out of it, alright?"

"God, you guys have been busting my balls for years," Colt remarked. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, sliding his free hand into the pocket of his jeans. The epitome of cool. "And yet, you still can't talk and back it up. You're going to be going to college soon—God forbid anyone actually take you—don't you think we're getting a little old for this?"

"What's the matter? Afraid you're going to get your ass kicked?"

"I'm afraid all this testosterone is going to make me choke," Rhuben mumbled from behind Colt. He glanced at her, she gave him a reproachful look in response, making him stand up straight and look around. Most of the classroom had emptied out, no audience.

Colt, unfortunately, knew firsthand Darren and Darryl didn't do anything without having an audience. Once all eyes weren't on them, their bravado went out the window. Darren, however, heard Rhuben's comment and turned to her with a withering glance to ask, "What was that?"

Rhuben looked back at him, her eyebrow twitching upwards, then smiled sweetly. "Nothing," she replied in a similar sugary-sweet tone that Colt was sure was fake.

Colt quickly spoke up once more. Not that he thought Darren was _that _stupid—he'd been beaten up by Miyo to prove it—but gender was never a deterrent for Darren to keep from being embarrassed. "Tell you what," Colt said. "You let me know when the day that you actually will kick my ass, or put up some semblance of a fight, and I'll actually act like I'm worried. I'll even put on a good show for you." He started to leave the room, only to have Darren slap his hand against his chest and push him back.

Colt sighed, shoulders dropping.

Well, if they wanted a fight…

"You're going to be eating more than those words, pony," Darren spat.

"Oh yeah?" Colt taunted. He fell into a fighting stance, exaggerating the taunting wave of his fingers. "Bring it on."

Rhuben looked at him in disbelief. Her face screwed up as she asked, "What are you _doing_?"

Brett grabbed Colt's shoulder and hoisted him from the classroom with a sharp tug of his backpack strap, accompanied by the jeers, "Yeah, you better run! Run as fast as those horse legs can carry you!"

At that, Colt felt his face enflame and he yanked his arm from Brett's grasp. "What'd you do that for?" He demanded. "I can take care of myself."

"Which you've proven before," Brett agreed. "I know you can take care of yourself, bro." He paused at the fork in the hallway, taking him to his next class and Colt to his. "But it's the first day. At least try to relax a little before you have your name plate buffed off in the principal's office." Colt rolled his eyes. "I'm just looking out for you, man."

"I know, I know." Colt shoved Brett's shoulder and wandered to his next class.

He bumped into Jo along the way, who looked uncharacteristically down for being back in school. She wasn't Emily levels of enjoying school, but certainly enjoyed it more than he did. She barely glanced at him when she passed, saying she needed to talk to him, Rocky, and Tum-Tum at lunch and that it was important.

Then Rocky had run into Rocky and relayed the message. It was the only thing he looked forward to, that day, if he were being honest. Not that school was bad by any means, just that the first day was boring. The best part, of course, was being able to see his best friends and hang out with them for hours in a day. And, of course, was the events the school was putting on, the juniors and seniors got the better ones compared to the freshmen and sophomores. Then there were the parties, of which he'd heard Rocky, Emily, and Jason talk about enough that he couldn't wait to see for himself other than going as 'Rocky's little brother'.

Not to say he hadn't been to a fair share of them himself, he'd perfected sneaking out of the house and coming up with excuses for not making curfew when in his last years of middle school. He'd tried to teach Rocky his tricks of the trade and found himself turned down almost every time. That was fine, Rocky could be as much of a stick in the mud as he wanted to be.

Colt hardly paid attention in the rest of his classes before lunch, curious as to what it was Jo needed to tell them. They shared a lot of classes and sat together, but no matter what Colt tried to wheedle out of her, she'd only tell him that he had to wait for lunch and was as steadfast in her decision as she was everything else in her life.

Finally, it was time for lunch and Colt immediately went to the cafeteria. After getting his food, he swept his gaze over the faces of the students that crammed inside. He found Tum-Tum sitting with his annoying friends all laughing and talking loudly, shoving their phones in each other's faces, throwing food, and being overall obnoxious. Colt's eyes narrowed when he spotted Patrick and Noah sitting with Tum-Tum and his friends as well.

_So they're all here, _Colt thought. It wasn't too weird, why split up siblings to have them go to different schools? But they weren't kidding, Colt realized, when they said they couldn't be missed. With the shock of black hair and identical faces, they were easy to spot in the crowded cafeteria as they were at the ninja tournament. Colt remembered how intently they were watching the the tournament along with the rest of the crowd. And now to end up here?

Colt shook his head, watching with mild amusement as Tum-Tum, similar to that morning, stuck out his tongue as his friend took a picture of him. Rock said Colt was the same way when he was a freshman, but Colt didn't quite remember it being that way.

After all, Rocky always had a streak of maturity in him and for a long time didn't seem to know how to have fun without feeling guilt for it afterwards. Nevertheless, once Tum-Tum caught Colt's gaze, he calmed down said goodbye to his friends, and stood with his full tray to follow Colt to a quieter table in the corner of the cafeteria where Rocky and Emily already sat.

Emily looked up as they approached, said something Rocky, making Rocky glance at them, nod, then lean back. Colt knew what that meant, it was something they didn't want the others to hear about. A private conversation. Not that it didn't mean Colt couldn't wheedle it out of Rocky later, it usually had something to do with another conversation about why the two weren't together more than anything else. Emily seemed to be more persistent of answers lately and with Rocky easily sidestepping the conversation or not giving a direct response seemed to make things more difficult.

Colt felt bad for him, in a way. Rocky could be very straight forward with things that annoyed him or that he seemed to be an injustice, but he equally hated disappointing other people or making them feel badly about themselves. Rocky had never gone into specifics, but Colt knew there had been many times Emily's insecurities had gotten the best of her.

"Hey," Emily greeted, brushing her hair back from her face. "How's the first day going?"

"First day, what do you expect?" Colt shrugged and dropped into the seat next to her, almost dumping his tray as he did so.

He kept his head down, scanning the food over his plate. Like most schools, the cafeteria food wasn't amazing, but it wasn't terrible either. It was the only time he didn't have to worry so much about his mother's assurance of healthy foods she gave them. It might be when they had to start making their own lunch or buying it, but that didn't stop them from trading for something better once they got to school.

Colt tried to focus on his plate, but couldn't help but sigh heavily and lean back, lifting his gaze to meet Rocky's. "Go ahead and say it," he groused.

Rocky blinked in surprise, lowering his carton of milk from his mouth. His eyebrows knitted together in a blank expression. One that was so carefully crafted, Colt knew from experience, that he wasn't quite sure if his older brother was being sincere in the moment. "Say what?"

"That it's only the first day and the year will get better," Colt replied.

"I wasn't going to say that." Rocky carefully put his milk aside and picked up his fork to pick at his salad. "I was just going to ask if you ran into Darren and Darryl today?"

Colt's eyes narrowed. His lips parted, ready to ask how Rocky would know that. And so quickly. It wouldn't have been a rumor, things like that hadn't been interesting years—near daily occurrences like that were never gossip. Then Colt closed his mouth again. "What? Were you checking up on me?"

The irritation that immediately came to his voice was mirrored in Rocky's face. "I don't have to check up on you, Colt. You do a good enough job of making sure people know when you're around."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Please," Emily interrupted. "Can't you ever go a day without fighting?" She pointed towards Rocky. "He was asking because Darren and Darryl were messing with him today and he wondered if they messed with you, too."

Colt looked at his brother closely. Rocky shot Emily a disapproving glance, making her roll her eyes. Figures, Rocky never would've said anything if it were happening to him but he'd make it his business if it were happening to his brothers. "What'd they do to you?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly with a wave of his hand. "The same old thing."

Tum-Tum grunted, shoveling a cheeseburger into his mouth. "Just let them come to me and I'll handle them for you," he said. "I'm not scared of them."

"_No one _is scared of them, Tum," Emily reminded him. "We're all annoyed of them." She cleared her throat, changing the subject. "So, how's your day been going so far? Do you like your classes?"

"Yeah, everything's so cool!" Tum-Tum crowed. "I don't know why you guys are always complaining, high school is awesome!" He beamed. "You get more freedom, more events to go to, and what we're learning is more interesting."

"Just wait until you get hit with all that homework, Tum," Rocky said dryly. "You'll get tired of it real quick."

"I know! It's the first day and I already have homework in most of my classes," Colt agreed. "I've got a math test at the end of the week."

"History project next week," Emily agreed, motioning between herself and Rocky.

"And that's not including what I've got to do for AP English," Rocky groused.

Colt smirked. "I'm sorry, did Rocky actually complain about his homework for once? I mean,"-he placed a hand to his chest-"I think it's the end of the world. He actually showed some emotion other than acting like everything's okay!"

Rocky gave Colt a withering look which easily translated to, "Shut up."

Colt held up his hand and did as he was nonverbally told. He didn't need to deal with Rocky's wrath so early in the day. And, if he were to do it, he would at least have Tum-Tum by his side so that he wouldn't have to worry about all the anger being put directly on him. It was more fun for the anger to be spread to numerous people.

"Well, good luck on your test, Colt. Just don't let dad find out," Tum-Tum said with a smarmy smile. "I don't think you want to start off the school year with an ass kicking when you inevitably fail."

Colt's smile faded and he glared, pointing a finger at his younger brother. "You know what—"

"—Sorry, I'm late," Jo interrupted, stopping at the table. She sat on the other side of Emily, carefully pushing her tray onto the table. "I had to talk to some of my teachers to make sure I can work out my homework if I ever have to stay on the reservation."

"That's alright," Emily said quickly. She cast her friend a reassuring smile. "We just hoped you were okay."

"I'm fine," Jo said quickly. She cleared her throat and leaned forward motioning for the others to do the same. Even Tum-Tum pushed his tray aside—not before taking his slice of watermelon off the tray, sticking it to his lips in a noisy slurp—and leaned forward with the others.

Colt shot him a glance and Tum-Tum quickly set the piece of fruit aside. Though his appetite hadn't waned much over the years, Tum-Tum's manners had at least progressed. And, Colt noticed whether his younger brother did or not—that Tum-Tum cared more about how his brother's saw him, often asking for subtle advice on the way he was dressed or how to handle things when he showed his seldom insecure side.

"I got news before I left this morning," Jo explained. "There's going to be a protest. My dad, my mom, and Chief Roundcreek are going around the tribe and drumming up interest. They want to go to the courthouse and lodge a protest against Jack."

Colt made a face. He wanted to say something that'd reassure Jo, that told her things would work out. But he really didn't know what to say. Didn't know what was true. Jo, as he learned, was very strong and did while she had moments of worrying, she continued to explain herself and her emotions strongly while doing so. Colt suddenly flashed back to when he first saw her, chanting and yelling with the rest of her tribe, despite being thrown to the ground and mistreated while doing so.

When she then later went to the pizza parlor to confront the man there who may or may not have had something to do with the disappearance of her father. The same girl who then told Colt and his brothers the story of what had happened to her tribe, with tears collecting in her eyes for the lives that had been lost, but still with a quiet yet forceful tone as she explained she would never give up until her father was found and her family was restored.

Jo didn't need reassuring, he knew. She needed her friends to support her.

"What do you want us to do?" Colt asked. He ignored the low, "Colt," Rocky murmured out the side of his mouth.

Jo gave him a reassuring smile. "Thanks, but I don't need to get you guys wrapped up in this."

"I don't know if you've noticed, Jo, but we're already wrapped up in it," Colt reminded her. He ignored Rocky's continued burning gaze into the side of his face. _Geez, I'd hate to see what'd happen if I ever actually made him mad, _Colt thought. "And we have been, this isn't just going to go away."

"But this protest," Emily spoke up, eyes filled with concern for her best friend. "Is there anything we can do to help? Or…" he lowered her gaze for a second. "_Do _you think it will help?"

Colt had initially been surprised when they started to hang out together; Jo, while capable of a quiet fury, was very outspoken and driven, unafraid to get into trouble when needed, while Emily made sure to get on everyone's good side and show her concern, often letting the chips fall where they lay before leaping in to attack.

Opposites attract, as it were. But it seemed to hold them together.

"It's going to do something," Jo said with a firm nod. "It'll let Jack know that we're not going to let him get away with what he did."

"But…he already did," Tum-Tum pointed out. He looked almost queasy at the thought. "I mean, he did? Didn't he? Dad says he can't be tried for anything else now that he's been released."

"He just means that he can't be charged for murder, Tum," Rocky pointed out. "Or for the bribery, defamation, and aggravated assault charges that he was sent to prison for." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking pensive. "They'd have to find other charges to implicate him with to bring in another trial and send him back to prison."

"So, who's to say it doesn't happen?" Colt asked. "Who's to say the police or the FBI don't open his case again and see if there's anything else that can be done?"

"Dad's already watching him closely," Rocky explained, easily batting away the question like a pesky fly. "The second Jack steps out of line, the quicker he'll be sent back." He shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. "Besides, you know he wants to do things right this time…"

Rocky trailed off meaningfully and Colt and Tum-Tum nodded in understanding. There had been a brief period where their father had been even more on edge than usual, when it came to the press that the local police had been bribed by Jack and his goons to continue letting him dump his toxic waste. It had been to be investigated, how far back the bribes went, and even their father had been questioned. It was found to be untrue very quickly, but the backlash from the city of Los Angeles couldn't go by unnoticed.

Most of the police force was fired, with replacements hired quietly, all that were deemed suspicious were questioned, sidelined, or suspended. And Sam was put under heavy scrutiny.

"So, what's the protest going to do?" Emily asked slowly. Jo glared at her, making Emily squeeze her friend's shoulder. "I just mean, you all protested the last time he came around and no one listened until these guys came along." Jo lifted an eyebrow, eyes shifting as she took on Emily's words. "It'll bring attention, yeah, but—"

"—And that's all we need to get things rolling," Jo insisted. She shook her head. "My dad still works with the Mayor, and that gives him an in for any new information he can find out. But for everything else…well…" she shrugged. "Doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results makes you insane."

"Yeah, and Jack is a businessman," Colt agreed. "He's an industrial tycoon."

"So?" Tum-Tum asked bluntly.

"_So, _pizza brains, it means that the only thing he cares about is money. He can't live without money. And, he's proven before, that he'll do anything to make sure he keeps making money. So, something like a little protest form the same tribe he hurt before isn't going to stop him." He looked to Rocky for backup, but he continued to listen to the conversation around him, fingers laced, chin resting atop his hands. Frustrated, Colt bristled slightly. "Dad says he's starting his empire again! Rocky, you know we have to do something?"

"I know," Rocky finally replied, tone even. "I just don't think we should jump to conclusions. We don't know what he's doing."

"Yes, we do! He's trying to make money again. And he'll do anything to get that money. If he's starting a new empire, then he's starting a new business. We have to do something."

"I agree with Colt," Tum-Tum piped up. He looked surprised when Rocky and Colt both turned to him, patiently waiting for his suggestion. "I mean, it's just…" he seemed flustered. "I think we can't sit back and wait for something to happen and regret it later."

"What if we're wrong?" Rocky said patiently. "What if he's not doing anything."

"And what if we're _right?" _Jo shot back.

She didn't say anything after that, simply looked at Rocky, eyes blazing with the fiery passion to protect her people. Colt looked at her and knew right then, no matter what, she wasn't going to give up on her family. No matter what he and his brothers decided to do, she was going to follow her heart.

Rocky looked back at her, twisting his mouth to the side. Colt held his breath, waiting for what Rocky had to say. In that sense, he didn't envy Rocky's position with them; being the oldest, being the leader, having to make tough decisions, even if it made him unpopular with other people.

"Is everything alright over here?"

At the same time, Rocky, Colt Tum-Tum, Emily, and Jo all leaned back to face Mrs. Klaus, the freshmen and sophomore English teacher. When she wasn't teaching her classes, she sat in the receptionist's office, taking down students' names and ailments if they were trying to get out of their class, giving guest passes to those visiting the school, and otherwise being the one thing standing between students who wanted to sneak out and freedom.

Colt stiffened, wondering how much of the conversation Mrs. Klaus heard. Their teachers didn't say much when it came to his and his brothers' ninja abilities. But if they knew anything about their plans of going to his protest, of seeing what was going on, then they more than likely would be stopped before the day was even out. Not to say that their parents donated a lot of money to the school—his mother seemed to roll her eyes every time there was a new PTA fundraiser of sorts, mumbling something under her breath about the salaries of teachers needing to be raised—but it did say something that one of the parents of the children at the school was an FBI agent.

Their parents seemed to know everything the boys did long before they walked through the front door of their home. And they'd suffer the consequences in only the creative ways Sam Douglas Sr. could come up with. Colt still worried about any permanent damage he may have had to his back from the time he made them go up to their grandfather's cabin to clear out the woods, carrying large logs over their backs for days on end.

Even their mother thought it was a bit inhumane. And that was on top of not being able to use his computer, phone, tv, or have any friends over for a month. Though Sam always said, "Yardwork never hurt anyone."

But Colt was sure never to take the car without permission ever again.

Who knows what he would do if they decided to skip school and get mixed up in a protest that had the chance of becoming violent? Especially when, if what his father had been saying over the last couple of days have been true, he was tangled up in the case with Jack Harding as well.

_We could probably work on this together, _Colt thought. _But knowing dad, he'd still tell us to sit back and wait._

Rocky, as quick as ever, put on a friendly smile and reassured her, "We're just talking about our parents' anniversary," he said smoothly. "It's a pretty big one this year and we're trying to figure out what we want to do to celebrate. We've known Emily and Jo forever and they said they'd help us out." He subtly angled his head to the side. "Is something wrong?"

Colt did his best not to snicker. Tum-Tum was already failing, doing his best to cover it up by shoving another hamburger in his mouth. _Be more obvious, why don't you? _Colt thought, doing his best not to roll his eyes. The teachers may not say much about their ninja abilities and their adventures, but they did treat the boys a little differently. Anytime they huddled together, seemed to isolate themselves, or look like they were planning something, it would only be seconds later that a teacher could come by an ask them if anything was wrong.

If their parents said anything about added security around their children—having decided not to tear them from their school—they boys didn't know. But that didn't mean they didn't notice any out of the ordinary behavior that came around them.

_Especially _when Darren and Darryl were involved. Colt had almost expected his teacher to have escorted Colt from class earlier that day when, chances were, it was just going to be another note added to their files in the principal's office.

"No, nothing," Mrs. Klaus said quickly. "I hope your parents enjoy their anniversary."

"Thank you." Rocky kept the smile on his face as Mrs. Klaus walked away. "We'll pass on the well wishes."

"Teacher's pet," Colt sing-songed, finally making Rocky drop his smile to a small, shy one, and shrug modestly while the rest of them around the table started to laugh. The tension around the table broke for the time being.

Emily was the first to calm down from her laughter. She ran a hand through her hair and turned a knowing glance to the eldest Douglas brother. "It's not your parent's anniversary is it?" She asked, pointedly.

Rocky looked his best friend in the eye. "Their anniversary's not for another six months," he replied.

Colt exchanged a glance with Jo and the two started to laugh again. Colt had to admit, as much of a 'big brother' that Rocky could be, as much of the teacher's pet, as much of the 'golden child' that he could be, he still had a few tricks up his sleeve.

That was one of the things he did envy.

* * *

Rocky tapped his fingers against his chin, staring at the empty word document to his computer screen. Well, empty except for _Jack Harding, _written at the top and _Motive: Revenge _just underneath it. Everything else was empty. Every and all searches he'd done for Jack's name in terms of patents or new companies came back with zero results.

Even stranger than the first time he'd looked for Jack. It hadn't been long since his first search, when he'd shown Colt everything—or in his case, nothing—he'd found on Jack, before they asked their father about him. He looked over the same websites, same searches, and nothing.

Nevertheless, there were still a lot of things swirling through his head. Number one being that the Tawanka tribe were going to go ahead and do their own thing to reveal their presence to Jack. Number two was that Jack probably wouldn't care. Number three was that Jack, he was sure, was going to do something to exploit people to regain his wealth.

_A tiger can't change its stripes, _Rocky thought. Or as his grandfather would say, "Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks about changing himself, a ninja must be prepared for all areas of change." (Rocky was sure his grandfather had stolen that quote from someone else and twisted it to bring his grandsons some advice as the summer wound to a close).

And number four…there were no such things as coincidences as far as he was concerned. He'd even said as much to Colt as they got warmed up at baseball practice that night, tossing the ball back to each other. They reunited with Emily and then got kidnapped by Snyder, with her targeted as well. They met Jo and was wrapped up in Jack's scheme for illegal toxic waste dumping. They met Miyo and were then targeted by Koga and his henchmen. And they met Amanda and became stuck in a ransom at an amusement park.

Colt had laughed, lifting his baseball cap up his forehead. "And the next thing you're going to tell me is that grandpa actually _was _going to double cross us on Snyder's ship."

Rocky ignored Colt's taunting laugh, catching the ball Colt whizzed to him in the palm of his catcher's mitt. "I'm just saying that every time we meet someone new, trouble isn't too far behind, whether they help us or not."

"And you think these new guys, the Jacksons, have something to do with Harding?" Colt asked. He barely shifted his hand before catching the ball Rocky threw back. "That's crazy!"

"'Is it? Our track record speaks for itself."

"Or it proves we need to mind our own business." Colt shook his head. "I'm starting to sound like dad, thanks a lot." He thought for a moment, pursing his lips. He tossed the ball up and down a few times, then spun it in his fingertips, throwing a glance in Rocky's direction. Tossed the ball back over. "Maybe _you're_ more like dad than we thought," he mused.

Rocky tilted his head as he caught the ball. He slowly smiled, turned, lifted his foot—moving into a pitcher's stance, and dropped his leg to the ground, snapping his arm around. Colt, moving as quick as his namesake, stuck his arm out and caught the ball.

The brothers grinned at each other.

Colt didn't get it. Nevertheless, Rocky couldn't help but laugh and agree that, maybe, they really did need to learn to mind their own business sometimes. So he focused on baseball. Rocky loved to play baseball, though a part of him did wonder if he truly did love it of if it was another thing that made him 'Sam Douglas Jr.' a mini-me of sorts of his father, as he'd been told since birth.

Rocky sighed. He steepeld his fingers and looked out the window that overlooked the backyard, smiling when he saw grandpa slowly walking the perimeter of the fence, watering the flowers his mother planted. He seemed to be spending more and more time out there as of late. _I wonder if he misses his cabin? _Rocky thought.

"Hey," Sam greeted, walking into Rocky's room, simultaneously knocking on the doorframe.

Rocky's shoulders tensed at the sudden noise, though he didn't jump. He shifted his eyes to his computer screen and minimized the word document, while keeping an eye on his father as he entered the room in two long strides. Rocky faced his father, surreptitiously lowering the lid of his laptop at the same time.

Just in case.

"Hey dad," Rocky greeted. He watched as his father perched on the end of his bed, loosening his tie and the cuffs of his dress shirt. A far cry from the well put together father he saw on nearly a daily basis. Rocky felt himself relax. "How was work today?"

"Not so eventful," Sam replied.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"In my line of work, that's a very good thing," Sam agreed, making Rocky laugh. "Believe me, doing paperwork is some of the worst days to my co-workers. But it can be one of my best." Sam draped his loosened tie around his neck and said, "What about you? How was your day? First day of the last year."

Did everybody need to remind him of that? He got the message loud and clear when he parked in the senior parking lot. He didn't need every teacher to say the same, "It's your last year of high school, but it's the only year that matters."

Rocky wanted to say as much, but not wanting to be hit with a lecture he instead said, "Yeah, it was…something."

Honestly, he wasn't sure how much he was able to say about his day without going into what Jo told them. If anything, his father already knew. Not that Rocky enjoyed keeping secrets from his father, it seemed to have gotten them into more trouble than it was worth. But a part of him found a sense of satisfaction of there being something they knew their father didn't. He'd heard enough of certain cases from his father to know some things that couldn't be said in the chance it was let out to the public.

And it cut down on the suspects they may be working to bring into custody.

"Did you meet anyone interesting?"

Sam's question caught Rocky off-guard, making him look at his father with slightly crazed eyes. Sam leaned back, laughing loudly. It took a few moments for Sam to compose himself, all the while Rocky blushed outward, but inwardly scolded himself. "You're acting like I just told you we're going to be moving again."

"Well, it's about that time of year, isn't it?" Rocky joked in response. His father looked away, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Guilt rocked Rocky's stomach. What a dumb thing to say. The only reason they moved so much…well, it was because of both of them if he were being honest. "That's not what I meant, dad, I just—"

"No, it's alright," Sam said quickly. He ran a hand through his hair, in much of the same way that Rocky would've done. "You're right." He nodded once. "We've moved a lot. And maybe there were times your mother and I should've explained things more, even though you were right in the middle of those things." He let out what sounded like a strangled laugh. "But at least we decided not to let you move schools. They were really good at listening to our concerns after everything that happened with Snyder."

Rocky nodded then smiled wickedly. "I don't know, I think some of our teachers could've used some time with Snyder to mellow out a bit."

Now Sam smirked. "I can same the same about some of the agents I've worked with." He shifted to rest his arms on his thighs, clasping his hands together. He looked Rocky in the eye. "Don't think I didn't notice you didn't answer my question."

Rocky'd hoped he didn't. "Did you do a lot of interrogations today?"

"No. I just like to think that I know my sons better than they know themselves. You think I don't know when Tum-Tum is trying to hide that he broke his diet? Usually he has some chocolate somewhere on his face, but he does have a guilty look he doesn't hide very well."

_I wonder if he can do the same thing with me, _Rocky suddenly thought. He watched his father as closely as his father watched him and said, "School was great. It's good seeing our friends again. Classes weren't too hard."

"AP Government didn't give you any trouble? Did you like it?"

"No, I mean, yeah, it was fine." They hadn't done much in the class yet. He wasn't exactly a lie. "Should be an interesting class."

"Any new kids?"

"A few," Rocky said slowly.

Sam's lips then pulled back into a knowing grin. "Any new girls?"

"Dad."

"Hey, it hasn't been too long since I've been in school, I know what it's like. New faces, new people to meet…interesting people." Sam continued to study his eldest son, his smile growing wider as Rocky's face turned red. "And by senior year I had a string of girlfriends behind me."

"Mom says you didn't date when you were in high school," Rocky reminded him.

"Your mother lies." Sam leaned forward and whispered, "She likes to think she was the only one I noticed."

"I heard that," Jessica's voice came from down the hall, where the master bedroom was. Sam and Rocky both laughed.

"So?" Sam pushed. "The new kids in school…I heard the Jacksons' kids were attending your school now." He paused, waiting for any sign of recognition on his son's face. "You know, that family we met at the ninja tournament?"

"Yeah, they were there," Rocky agreed. A thought suddenly came to him. "Did you investigate them or something?"

Sam made a face. Almost as if he were offended. "No. I was just talking to their mom and dad at the tournament and they were saying they were sending them to your school."

"Uh, yeah, they're in Colt's and Tum's class. Sydney's a bit young, I didn't see him around." Rocky scratched at the side of his head. "Why?"

"Just wondering if you ran into them, that's all. It's hard moving to a new place, let alone going to a new school."

"Yeah, I think I got that, dad." Rocky glanced back at his laptop. "Look, uh, I have a lot of homework I need to do—"

"—On the first day? That explains Colt's bad attitude."

"Colt has a bad attitude when it's cloudy. And I have to read all of _Scarlett Letter _by the time our class meets again. Believe me when I say I'm not really looking forward to it."

"If I remember that book the way I do, I don't blame you." Sam got up and started to leave the room. He paused at the doorway and asked, "How's Emily doing?" with a smile so cheeky Rocky couldn't help but groan and roll his eyes.

Besides, Emily wasn't the one he was thinking about.


	13. Everything Was Going To Work

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

Jack frowned as he poked his fingers through his blinds and peered out at the street below. He squinted against the grimy filth that covered the glass—unsure of what it truly was—and backed away, seeing he had some of it transferred to his fingers. Grunting, he ran his hand down the sides of his trouser legs. He grunted even further, noticing the stains that were starting to form. Stains that taunted him the larger they grew as the days passed. That mocked him, reminding him of the life he used to lead in the nicest portion of Los Angeles. Where he could sit in his castle and watch all his slaves and minions work in the city below.

He really needed to get into some new clothes soon. _Just be patient, Jack, you need some more money and then you're good to go. Then you can get the deed to this place and rip it to the ground. _He poked open the blinds once more and, using the side of his fist, he smudged aside a circle of the grime. He looked out toward the street, frowning when he didn't see any movement. Jack turned his gaze to his watch, and not the most expensive of his watches, one of the lesser ones. They didn't shine as brightly. Was plastic, was cheap, would fall apart in merely a week. It was a good thing it was one of the few things that was seized to pay back those he got loans from.

_Not that those loans mattered, _Jack thought, pursing his lips. _Those shit heads were selfish losers anyway. They didn't say a peep when I was making my own business, but the moment things started to fall down, there did nothing but run after what they could get from me. _Jack turned his gaze tot eh sky. Far from Los Angeles, the sky was an inky black, dotted by a multitude of stars. A smooth sheet that held a sinister remnant to him. An inky black that tempted him to run and hide away, while that he could keep attention off what he was doing so that no one looked into him.

He needed to keep to himself. Wanted a quiet life while he worked up his business again. And yet, he was sure there were people watching him at every turn. When he allowed himself to leave his apartment, there wasn't anything too obvious that made him stand out. And yet he couldn't help but look over his shoulder almost every second. A sixth sense, if it were. He'd learned to cover his bases and kept watch while in prison, even when sleeping.

But he hadn't kept to himself too much. If he had, he wouldn't have been able to start up MedoCal so quickly. There were more than enough obstacles that would've held him back if he didn't have the time to just sit and work on it. He wouldn't have had the time to focus on his ventures. Would've been spread too thin, would've been too busy, greedy over what he could get. That was his downfall, he realized. Too many businesses and patents that took his attention all around, while he should've focused on what would bring him the most money quicker.

And he could do it faster, Jack reasoned, if that damned JJ wasn't always lollygagging around. Once getting his time reduced, having turned and spilled the beans on Jack so easily, Jack to keep him under his thumb. A few conversations with the people in prison around him, and the next thing he'd heard through the grapevine was JJ's brutal beatdown. Something that made him work on his acting chops, so that he didn't grin maniacally when he mused over the news.

So, where the hell was he now?

Jack huffed so hard that the glass condensed. He grabbed the blinds harder in his fist, listening as they cracked beneath his hand. He threw them back in place, watching as they haphazardly swung from their hooks above the window, and turned his back to the street. Jack slammed his fists to his hips and paced, fuming.

He chomped on the end of the cigar forever hanging out his mouth. He had no choice but to wait now, couldn't smoke as much as he wanted. He needed to be sure the money was cleared through the wire, sent to his overseas accounts, before he could start living luxuriously. Who would've thought wanting to smoke a simple cigar could do that to someone. Remind him of the life that he had had and was desperate to get back to. No matter who got in his way.

Prison had done that for him. Changed him in ways he hadn't thought was possible. He wasn't going to back, he'd make sure of it. He just needed to be smarter than he was last time. He continued to pace, glancing at the door every few seconds. Finally, after twenty minutes of waiting, twenty minutes of curling his hands into fists, he heard a certain knock on the front door. Heard the key in the lock and was over by the door in seconds.

JJ let out a panicked yelp when Jack grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall next to the door. He knocked the door shut with his foot, locked it with his free hand, and shoved his face into JJ's. "Where the hell have you been?" He demanded.

"I had to make sure the wires went through," JJ stammered. He blinked rapidly, tucking his head as Jack continued to press his face into his lackey's. JJ then squeezed his eyes shut and flinched when Jack let out a grumbling growl. "Well, I couldn't stay at the same Western Unison with that much money. I had to bounce around a lot. I'm pretty sure I was being followed, boss."

At that, Jack lessened his grip against JJ. He took a step back, extending JJ arm's length away from him. He eyed JJ closely. "Followed?" He spat. JJ nodded like a bobble head. "Followed by who? When? Where?"

"I don't know, boss, I just had a feeling I was being followed." JJ swallowed hard. "I kept seeing this, this car everywhere I went. At first, I thought it was a coincidence, but you know cop cars. They're all the same! I can't go down any street in LA without seeing some of the same cars. But…but this one I'm sure was following me around."

Jack made a low humming sound, still holding JJ's neck. He could feel the younger man's pulse throbbing against his thumb. Jack didn't know a lot about cars that weren't expensive. But he knew cop cars. Had followed them the best he could as the years went by, wasting away his years in jail. Followed anyone who may or may not come after him. He had no proof, but he was sure he knew who it was that may have been following JJ around.

Who may be trying to stop him before he could do anything. And the thought alone simply made Jack smile. He released JJ's neck and patted him on the cheek. Almost absentmindedly. So, what if JJ was being followed? He wasn't doing anything wrong. There were millions of people who wired money. Everyone knew there was a cap of how much you could send at once or else you'd get flagged. There was nothing wrong with it.

No suspicions.

And if Sam Douglas wanted to bust his ass over something that was tiny, then he could do that. It was no skin off his nose. Besides, the more relaxed Agent Douglas was, the more he was leaving everything else exposed for Jack. Jack's malicious smile returned; a slow, creeping smile that showed off all his stained teeth. That showed off the darkness he'd grown accustomed to while in prison. A sinister, creeping wash that fell over him and spurned his thoughts and plans forward. He truly understood why Snyder worked so hard to get revenge against his former partner and his son-in-law. It was a drug he needed to fuel. It was going to make Jack's own revenge that much sweeter. To be able to hear the screams of those three boys that had wronged him before, and anyone who decided to get in his way, it was going to be perfect. To see the terror on their faces, and the faces of that tribe that had tried so hard to take him down before.

There were inklings the tribe were already planning something about him. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they managed to curse him in some way. With how quickly everything fell apart for him, they may as well have. But everything was working out now. He couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces when they realized he was back in the spotlight. No one could touch him. He had the means to protect himself this time. The protection that even the great Sam Douglas wouldn't be able to get away from unscathed.

_At least JJ can do something right, _Jack thought. It was then he realized how silent the apartment was.

He looked over at JJ, who stared back at him. Jack snarled and shoved JJ's face away from him. "Why you eyeballin' me, boy?" He demanded. "What are you grinning at me for?"

"We got it, boss," JJ reminded him. "We got the money. We can get out of this dump and finally start making everything work." He reached into his pockets and pulled out several flat, green packages. He threw them into the air, catching them in his hands. "This MedoCal stuff…that martial arts tournament. It all worked, boss. We're going to be rich."

Jack grinned, pointing a finger at JJ. He shook it before grasping JJ's face in his hands. "Rich_er_," he reprimanded him. "We're going to be _richer_!" He whooped and pushed JJ away from him. "Call up the real estate agent, we're getting us a mansion!" He grabbed one of the packages from JJ's hand, ripped it open, and downed the contents, swallowing the pills whole, ignoring the sting as they slid down his throat.

JJ dove for the oldest laptop Jack had ever seen, and started to pull up multiple listings while Jack waited for the pills to kick in. The did slowly, then all at once. The rest of the night was a blur, with cigar smoke billowing around him and JJ, multiple phone conversations, money wires, calling connections that'd keep them from the police eye a little bit longer.

And as time went on, Jack slowly became numb to the world. He couldn't hear anything JJ was saying to him. It was all a blur. A loud, humming blur. His words came out slurred as well. Enough so that JJ's confused face managed to make him look even more confused—if possible. And yet he nodded along with his boss. Went along with everything.

He was still jawing away when Jack collapsed onto the couch, bringing a hand up to shield his closed eyes from the bright lights that seemed to increase in luminosity as the seconds passed.

Finally, Jack fell into a deep state of unconsciousness. All the worry and stress was gone.

Everything was going to work out.


	14. Smarter Than They Think

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

Rocky closed his textbook for his Probability and Statistics class, making sure to fold down the corner where they stopped in class, to further study it later. Reaching up, he pushed his glasses up his forehead and pinched at his eyes, trying to work away his tiredness. Math was one of his best subjects, truth be told he was good at academics all around—his parents certainly made sure of that—but the class was already starting to wear him out and it was only a few weeks into the school year.

He looked over and groaned lightly, seeing the brochure for USC poking out form between all his other textbooks. The last thing he wanted to think about. He thought having the beginning of the school year to focus on would have his dad back off a little, but it was too good to be true. Once they got settled into the routine of school, practice, and work again, Rocky had a conversation about school his future university almost every night.

Not that he was completely surprised, the summer had been as packed with campus tours when he wasn't with his grandfather and wasn't at work. He'd smiled along as his mother and father went with him to tour USC and they'd pointed out everything the college had to offer. But he also couldn't help but notice how uninterested they—well, his father—appeared when they toured other colleges in Northern and Southern California. His mom, he knew, was hardly keeping it together, using her excitement as s cover for the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks as her 'baby' was going to be leaving them soon.

Of which Colt and Tum-Tum were quick to remind her that she still had two sons at home. Rocky knew they were trying their best not to think about it as well, though he also knew they were already plotting who would get his bedroom the second he was gone.

There was still a lot he needed to get done. Request his transcript, take the SAT in October, decide if he was going to apply early decision to USC, finish other applications by December if he didn't decide to apply early decision, talk to the guidance counselor, get letters of recommendation…

And plan it all with his parents.

Rocky cleared his throat, pressing his fingertips into his temples. Even the simple thought made his head hurt. Not as much as it'd hurt if he didn't decide to go to USC. _And not as much as it'd hurt if I did, _Rocky thought. He still remembered how much his face hurt from fake-smiling so much after hearing so much about how he enjoyed the school, or how he needed to "look at that" and "pay attention to this" and how he'd be a legacy of sorts.

Rocky's temples started to throb.

"Ouch," Emily said, her voice wafting through Rocky's thoughts. "Sounds like the homework was really difficult this time."

"Yeah, you're in for a real treat," Rocky replied sarcastically. He leaned back in his desk chair, still rubbing at his eyes. "I wanted to blow my brains out this time."

"You?" Emily snorted. "Mr. Straight-As."

"I don't get straight As," Rocky said quickly. Which was the truth. There were some subjects he had to study a lot to get even a B, and while his parents didn't become helicopter parents in any way, there were times his mother had to sit him down and explain why some grades of his were unacceptable. And there were _many _times he'd overheard her and Colt argue about his grades and her and Tum-Tum talk about why he needed to focus a little bit more. "Believe me, if I did, I wouldn't have my mom breathing down my neck every time report cards come out."

"Aww, poor you," Emily teased. He heard a crinkling sound in the background and asked about it, "I'm working on an article for the school paper and it's not going very well. I've started over, like, five times already."

"You'll get it, Em, you always do. And then you'll be an investigative journalist to justify your being so nosy." Emily laughed. There was a low beeping that sounded in his ears, making Rocky wince and pull his phone back from his ear. He looked at his phone and rolled his eyes when he saw that Colt had texted him. He read a short blurb from the notification on the front of his screen and put his phone back to his ear. "Colt just texted me, I've got to get going."

"Did he really just text you when you're in the same house?" Emily asked, her laughter fading.

"You know Colt hates talking on the phone," Rocky said. Then he laughed. "Honestly, I'm surprised it took so long for mom to get the point after that whole intercom thing." Emily laughed along with him.

Rocky was and still was impressed with how quickly Colt managed to get their mom to stop using the intercom function on their home phones. She wanted to make a point of how often the boys were on their phones and weren't aware of everything around them that if she were in the master bedroom and needed their attention, she'd use the intercom function to call a specific phone she knew the boys were around to ask them to take out the trash, to clean their rooms, to do their homework, to stop fighting, to stop playing video games.

And Colt, being devious, used it back against her. Every little thing he had that came to mind he'd pick up the phone and use it to call their mother. Rocky and Tum-Tum would laugh quietly behind their hands while listening to their mother get more and more irate with the things he had to tell her until, finally, she agreed to stop doing it.

"And mom hates it when we yell so…" Rocky ran a hand through his hair. He blew out a long breath. "Is it weird that I'm sort of nervous?"

"Nervous about going to dinner with a family you hardly know?" Emily replied. Rocky could hear the snort in her voice and grinned. "I really don't know how anyone could go into a situation like that and be calm." She thought for a moment. "I mean, it is pretty short notice."

"Well, you know my mom. She can become friends with everyone." Rocky was envious of that. How she could smile and chat with anyone she wanted without a second thought. How she made friends with each and every neighbor they've ever had with nothing but a bright smile and a homemade pie. All the while he stood aside when he was young, shyly clinging to his mother's leg or giving off a bashful smile. He became more confident and made friends win his own right as he got older, easily making friends with Jo and Miyo, but there was still a part of him that held back when he was, more or less, Sam and not Rocky.

Rocky was surprised at breakfast that morning when she'd come breezing into the kitchen saying they were invited over for dinner at the Jacksons' house. At that, Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum exchanged glances. They'd gotten to know the family a little while at school, but as classmates. Rocky snuck a peek at his father, noticing the way his eyebrows came together over the top of his newspaper, almost as if it had been sprung on him as well.

But he'd agreed to it, after a moment of silence that filled the kitchen.

"Yeah, but, it might be pretty cool. I guess. I don't know."

Rocky paused, wanting to tell her what he truly was nervous about. But decided against it. He'd already brought it up before, at the time they had lunch with their friends when Jo was explaining what her tribe was planning to do. But no one truly understand how deep his worries went.

They'd been kidnapped, targeted, had guns pointed in their faces, swords swung at their heads, and multiple times came up against situations they almost didn't make their way out of. And, through it all, he was expected to be strong when no one knew he woke up multiple times in the night just to check that his door was locked, that the house was armed, that no one was creeping around in the backyard. That the car following him down the street wasn't targeting him but, in fact, looking for directions to the house they were looking for. That loud sounds weren't some sort of a gun or other explosion going off, that would send him diving to the floor to avoid the barrage of bullets that may have been coming his way, but were locker doors slamming shut.

He was cool and solid as granite rock…but he wasn't always that durable.

* * *

Tum-Tum frowned and shoved Colt hard in the side when he was squished further into his side of the backseat. Colt whacked him on the shoulder and Tum-Tum responded by flicking him in the ear then moving to punch him in the crotch. Colt immediately crossed his legs and blocked the attack, pressing his hand into the side of Tum-Tum's face, pushing him away.

Rocky glared at the two, briefly taking his eyes from his phone, and turned up the volume of whatever he was listening to. _Probably some boring podcast, _Tum-Tum thought. He always did take everything so seriously. But it was Rocky's glare that made Tum-Tum and Colt exchange smirks before they reached out and shoved Rocky in the side, making him jump and fumble his phone, dropping it to his feet where it clattered against the supports of the seat making him yelp in surprise.

Of course, it was _that _that attracted their fathers' attention.

"Hey," Sam called from the front seat. Immediately, Tum-Tum and Colt stopped shoving each other and became the perfect picture of innocence. "Settle down back there!"

"Yes sir," Colt quipped, giving his father a salute.

"Quit being a smartass, Jeffrey."

"I'm not being a smartass!"

Tum-Tum snorted at the smile that Colt didn't quite try to hide on his face. Even Rocky managed a smile that he covered by resting his mouth against his palm. Tum-Tum wished he could make jokes like that to their dad, but knew it wouldn't carry the same kind of weight. Just as he wouldn't be the one to ever make decisions for them if they ever found themselves in another situation that called for their ninja training. Even though he'd won his age range of the competition—something not even Rocky and Colt could say they did—it didn't seem to carry much weight.

_Probably because they're annoyed they didn't win, _Tum-Tum thought. The idea had been great at first, that he could do something his brothers couldn't. But it didn't seem to bring much clout to his 'standing' with them. They still treated him like the annoying little brother who didn't know what he was talking about. Not that Tum-Tum didn't like that position at times, he got out of doing stuff sometimes, was overlooked when serious conversations needed to happen. Though, he certainly didn't envy Rocky being in that oldest sibling position.

It looked to be much too stressful.

Tum-Tum turned his attention back to the game on his phone, flicking his thumbs over the screen to ensure he collected the highest score he could on the game. His stomach growled every few seconds, making him huff and cross his legs the other way. Candy Crush wasn't exactly the best game to play on an empty stomach, but he was going to get to that last level even if it killed him.

"Are we there yet?" Tum-Tum called, lifting his chin up over his phone. He slowly brought his eyes from the screen, looking towards his parents briefly.

"Almost," Jessica replied over her shoulder.

Silence stretched for a few seconds. Not long enough for Tum-Tum to keep quiet. He sighed, putting his phone down to his lap, waiting for the next level to load. "How come grandpa couldn't come with us?"

At that, Jessica sighed and twisted around in her seat to face her sons. Tum-Tum looked back at her curiously studying her face. She tried her best to keep it neutral, but Tum-Tum was more observant than others gave him credit for. He spent enough time with her to know the way her lips tightened at the corners was her way of trying to hide something. What he really wanted to ask was 'why hasn't grandpa been around so much?'. He seemed to be the only one who noticed.

Tum-Tum frowned, waiting for her explanation. "He wasn't feeling very well to come to dinner with us tonight," Jessica explained. Sam reached out and grasped his wife's knee, squeezing it in his larger palm. "But he hopes we have a good time. He's excited to get to know the Jacksons himself. Once I mentioned they were Japanese, too, he was disappointed to be missing out."

Tum-Tum believed that. Though Mori was quiet compared to the rest of his family, he held an insurmountable amount of passion for his Japanese heritage. Anyone who saw an old man didn't know his real grandfather. The one who patiently taught his grandsons how to write, speak, and read Japanese, taught them everything about the culture, told them stories of his life growing up there. Even took them on trips back to his hometown when they visited Japan—thankfully when they weren't being chased down for a dagger.

Many of his grandfather's friends were back in Japan, others had passed away over the years, so Tum-Tum knew at times that his grandfather was lonely and finding those that held the same values and experiences was something he truly enjoyed when he found it. He continued to talk to Miyo and her mother as much as the boys did.

"How'd you meet them anyway?" Tum-Tum continued.

"At the ninja tournament," Sam replied brusquely. He squeezed his wife's knee once more, the two exchanging a glance, before he pulled on the wheel, pulling their car up into the long driveway of a house set back from the street.

Tum-Tum craned his neck to look out the window, glancing into the open garage to find numerous bikes and rollerblades hanging from hooks in the ceiling and off the walls. Much like their own garage, but much cleaner. He grimaced, practically seeing his father's eye son him in the rearview mirror, also reminded that he needed to clean the garage or else he wouldn't get his allowance for the week. Again.

Turning to face forward, Tum-Tum smiled sweetly, seeing his father's stare on him. Only seconds before he was shoved hard in the back by Colt, prompting him to climb over the backseat and out of the car. Jessica shook her head as she watched her boys clamber from the backseat and pop open the car door to step outside.

"Do you have to do that?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips. "Do you know how many times I've had to have the seats reupholstered because you keep climbing like that?"

"So, we're just going to ignore all the times Tum got melted chocolate and lollipops all over the seats?" Rocky asked, brushing off his shirt as he closed the door to the trunk.

Tum-Tum shrugged. He heard it so many times that he couldn't become embarrassed by it anymore. "I enjoy my food. So what?" _Speaking of food,_ he brought his phone back to his hand and finished his level of Candy Crush before his father swatted his arm to turn his phone off.

"Best behavior," he reminded his sons.

"So, you want us to be fake?" Colt quipped. Rocky snickered and the two-fist bumped, immediately dropping their smiles when Sam glared at him. "Geez, dad, it's not like we're meeting the pope or anything."

Sam sighed heavily and turned to his wife with a half-smile. "Do you remember when we used to be so excited when they started to talk?"

Matching his smile, Jessica nodded back. She reached up and flicked some hair form her face as she said, "Yeah…are you starting to regret that as much as I am?" The two laughed as their sons let out multiple sounds of protest.

"I find once they _stop _talking is when I get worried," Reed said as he came up behind them, flip-flops smacking against the bottom of his feet as he, Riley, and Rhuben waked up the driveway toward them. He held a pizza box in his hands. "All the quiet is worrying and with this lot,"—he nodded toward his daughters—"they're never quiet."

"I know the feeling," Sam agreed with a laugh. He reached out his hand toward Reed, making him transfer the pizza to Rhuben's hands before slapping his palm against Sam's to shake it firmly. "Good to see you again."

"Likewise, mate," Reed replied. "Should've done it sooner. But I reckon school's a bit more important." He nodded to Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum. "I've heard a lot about your boys. These are my daughters Riley and Rhuben, and my boys are all inside, probably playing a video game or something."

"And Renee?" Jessica asked, raising her eyebrows.

Reed's eyes shone with mischief. "I'm sure my better half is somewhere in the kitchen." Tum-Tum immediately perked up at the mention, eyes focusing on the pizza box in Rhuben's hands.

Rhuben chuckled, motioning towards Tum-Tum. "No worries, Tum, you can have some if you want. We just picked it up in case there was some things mum was making that you didn't like."

"There hasn't been anything _invented _that Tum-Tum doesn't like," Colt remarked, folding his arms. He paused then exchanged a smirk with Rocky. "Except chicken livers, maybe." The two laughed as Tum-Tum's face immediately soured. The one thing that foiled him at a Japanese restaurant, and what ultimately tasted like…dirt.

Actually, that was an insult to dirt.

Either way, he'd never make the mistake of eating them again. Though the amused smile and hysterical laughter from his grandfather, who'd tricked him into it, was definitely a memory he'd cherish for a long time…especially since it was brought up enough.

"I tried to talk him out of pizza," Riley added, tilting her head toward her father. She leveled her gaze on Rocky and smirked. "I reckoned you wouldn't want a reminder of your job if you had the night off."

Rocky smiled a little, lowering his head. "The constant garlic smell is reminder enough," he pointed out.

"You're telling me," Cot remarked, waving ah and in front of his face.

Reed started to say something then stopped, patting his pockets as his cell phone rang. He looked at the Caller ID then backed away. "Bollocks," he murmured. "I have to take this." He grasped Riley's shoulder, gently shaking it as she sighed quietly and looked away. "Cherry, can you take them inside, please? I'll be there in a tick."

"Sure," she replied flatly then led the way into the house through the garage. She stopped at the door to take off her flip-flops while Rhuben added, "shoes off, please. Mum doesn't like us tracking dirt in the house."

Jessica lifted her chin and gave a pointed look to her husband and children, all of which who did their best to keep from meeting her gaze, all hearing the numerous times they'd heard her bark from the kitchen, living room, or front room the moment each of them came through the door, which would then be drowned out by their thunderous footsteps up the stairs by the boys of the slamming of an office door by her husband.

The second Riley opened the door to the house, nothing but a wall of noise careened into Tum-Tum and the Douglasses. Patrick and Noah ran by with the twin boys laughing and shouting at each other while Sydney chased after them, all yelling.

Sam grimaced, jerking his head back and sticking a finger in his ear. Tum-Tum grinned. If he was reacting like that, hopefully the noise he and his brothers made at home was quiet in comparison. (And it'd be the last time he'd be yelled at for getting too into a video game). Riley, on the other hand, quickly put a stop to it as she called, "Quit running," while closing the door behind her.

Patrick and Noah slowed to a fast walk, pumping their arms to propel themselves further, but kept themselves out of Sydney's grasp when they circled back around. Sydney, however, slowed and frowned. He pointed after his older brothers and said, "But they—"

Riley swiftly and firmly interrupted with, "I don't care, quit running!" She placed her hand on Sydney's head and ruffled his hair. Then she pushed him after their brothers and added with a conspiratory wink, "But kick their ass for me."

Sydney nodded and hurried after his brothers once more. They rounded the corner then noticed their visitors, making Patrick come to a stop and give a boisterous, "Oy!" while giving a lopsided smile. He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Fancy a game of Fortnite?"

"Yeah!" Tum-Tum cried, his eyes immediately lighting up at the thought of his favorite video game. It was one of the only ones that he could play for hours on end other than the retro games like super mash bros.

Plus, he already knew what was going to happen with dinner. His parents would talk about work—blah, blah, blah, boring-and then they'd talk about nothing but their kids' accomplishments in some sort of a subtle competition as all parents did, and then they'd talk about Rocky and college and Rocky would sit there with that almost deranged fake smile on his face all the while he wanted nothing more than to say "no one cares," and get to more important conversations.

Tum-Tum stood in the window of the game room that Patrick and Noah led him to, while Sydney followed along quietly. They sort of reminded him of him and his brothers, Tum-Tum thought, watching the three. The same, but a little different. Patrick was the older of the boys and made the decisions, but was much more outgoing. Noah was in the middle and followed Patrick's lead, but was quieter. And Sydney, with the large age gap between them, followed after them, trying to be included.

And Tum-Tum had a good chance to get to know Patrick and Noah through school; they were in al the same classes and sat together at lunch every day, talking and joking about something. Plus, it was cool that they brought some Australian snacks to school with them.

Tum-Tum made a low humming sound as he looked over the expansive pool in the backyard, at the fire pit and grill sitting in the opposite corner, and the flower beds that lined the fencing. Perfect place for someone to hide if needed; a house sitting further back from the street and a guarded backyard. Tum-Tum's eyebrows came together, watching as Reed went into the backyard and started to pace, clutching his phone tightly in hand, mouth pressed into a thin line.

He hadn't seen the Jacksons' father too much, but every time he'd been jovial. Seeing him less than stellar was a little weird. "Your dad looks mad about something."

"Probably just work," Patrick said, almost carelessly. As if he'd heart it all before. Been there, done that. He rocked back on his heels, ensuring the game was set up properly then waved the game controller to Tum-Tum like a hot pastry. Tum-Tum took it and dropped into a beanbag chair, extending his legs to a comfortable position.

It startled him sometimes, how quickly he grew once he'd started to lose weight. He sometimes tripped over his feet, making his win at the ninja tournament even a surprise to himself, though he'd wanted to win so badly. He started up the game as Noah added. "It always puts him in a bad mood."

"Dad's not home that much," Patrick added, watching the TV screen, arms folded. "He's always at work. And when he's home, he's always on the bloody phone."

"I know what you mean," Tum-Tum agreed. "Dad's always in a bad mood when he comes home from work. And even when he is home from work, he's in his office doing more work." He turned his controller to the side and slammed his thumbs into the controls. "Mom always said, when we were younger, we'd scatter like cockroaches when dad came home because we were afraid of his temper."

"Mum says that, too," Noah agreed quietly. He kept his eyes on the screen, speaking in a low murmur as he concentrated on the game. "But he's been doing a lot of work on his supplements." He reached up and rubbed his nose. "His boss is getting impatient with what's coming out and wants him to produce more."

"Yeah, he's kind of a hardass, too," Patrick said. "That's the nickname we gave him."

Hardass.

Harding.

A fitting nickname.

Tum-Tum smiled as he watched the tank on screen blow up, making the three boys cry out in surprise and amusement. He reached out his hand and accepted the high-fives he deserved for the amazing feat. But also used it as a way to pat himself on the back for what he learned.

He wasn't as stupid as his brothers thought.


	15. Incident At The Ice Cream Shop

**Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

"Sam, Jessica, would you like something to drink?" Renee asked, turning away from the stove, draping a towel over her shoulder. "We were just about to make some mimosas, but there's plenty of wine options as well."

"I'll take anything you have to offer," Jessica said, taking an offered seat at the counter. "A few fingers full."

"And what can I get for you, Sam?" Renee asked, immediately moving to fulfill Jessica's request. "Are you a wine or a beer man?"

Sam thought about it for a moment. With the stress of everything that'd been going on, he, honestly, would've preferred to drown himself into alcohol. Being an FBI Director was stressful enough, the only thing that made it worse was how often he could hear of cases that his sons ended up wrapped into. He would never, _never _as long as he lived, get over the feeling of knowing he was the reason they were kidnapped way back when, by a man he thought never would stoop that far.

Had he been more realistic, Sam wouldn't have put anything past Snyder. Their pasts were too intertwined. A past he and his wife hadn't completely explained to them in the first place; not only was Snyder their grandfather's former ninja student and business partner, but he'd been a former boyfriend of their mother's as well.

They'd been caught up in a revenge plot with a multitude of levels that even Sam wasn't sure how to unravel. There were things he worked to keep himself from thinking about, just as there were things in his work life he had to pretend, in his house, didn't exist due to the nature of his job. And now there was this Jack thing all over again. Nothing too worrisome had happened, yet, but he was on the FBI's radar. The second he stepped out of line, the second they caught wind of something and he'd be in cuffs before he could even blink.

He hadn't realized how much the stress was getting to him until he was offered the drink, wanting nothing more than to want the stress to melt away. (Especially since he couldn't quit his job anytime soon).

"A beer would be fine," Sam said with a grateful nod.

He moved next to Jessica and sat on a backed stool at the counter. He surveyed the kitchen as Renee nodded and went to the refrigerator to retrieve what he nodded. The space was almost as big, if not bigger than their own kitchen, stainless steel appliances, pictures all over the front of the refrigerator along with report cards and comic strips snipped out from newspapers held up by colorful magnets from all over.

A normal home.

"Oy, I see you're already started without me," Reed said, coming into the kitchen. He set his phone onto a nearby counter—facedown, Sam noticed—and went to his wife, giving her a kiss on the side of the head. "I reckon you can never wait to play hostess, yeah?"

"I wouldn't have to if you'd stick around a bit longer." Renee elbowed her husband in the side before handing over a glass of wine to Jessica and a beer to Sam. She tossed her long hair behind her shoulder and eyed her husband. "Was that work again?"

"Would I have this look on my face if it wasn't?" Reed gestured, circling his index finger around his face. "I reckon I may have to go into the office later."

Renee's eyes widened as she faced her husband. "Jack!" She admonished.

Reed placed his hands on his wife's shoulders and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Relax, sweetheart, I said _maybe_. Depends on what those blokes can do when I'm not there." He reached into the refrigerator for a beer himself, popping off the top by pressing the lid against the counter and smacked the flat of his palm against the top. "What can you do?"

"You can _not _go in. Ever think about that?"

Reed lifted an eyebrow. "How about _you _not go into work some days, then, when they call you in?" Renee folded her arms and he set his beer down to take over on the oven, sliding mitts over his hands before gently moving her out the way.

"Those are parent-teacher conferences, and those parents are already crazy enough, skipping out on them would be a personal offense." She swatted her husband on the back when he stuck his tongue out at her. She turned back to Sam and Jessica saying, "Ignore us, we have this conversation almost daily."

"Long work hours?" Jessica turned to Sam with a knowing look, which he ignored. "I know the feeling."

"I reckon as an FBI Director you get called outside of your hours a lot," Reed said, taking a brisket from the oven. He transferred it to a cutting board and grasped a bbq fork to press atop of it. He motioned for Sam to follow him with a tilt of his head and Sam nodded back. He pushed back his seat and followed Reed from the kitchen to the deck that overlooked the backyard.

Sam smiled to himself when he saw Colt juggling a soccer ball on his knees, expertly moving it back and forth from knee to knee, to his feet, even up to his head, balancing it across his forehead, then dropped it back to his feet. Figured he'd find something that would hold his attention and let him get rid of the excess energy he always seemed to exude.

He'd never admit it out loud, but despite how overwhelmed he felt with all his boys shouting at him once about their new names—they were ones that made sense to each boy. Colt being named Colt, apart from being a direct relation to his ninja abilities, was certainly in point for all the energy he was practically screaming to be released. It was part of the reason he and Jessica had decided to stick the boys into sports at such a young age; Rocky, though the calmer of the three, did have his moments of energy that were only eclipsed by his younger brothers once they came along.

Though there was also a point in time—to be specific, the time where he and Jerry had driven away to work on the Snyder case—that Sam held nothing but contempt for their new ninja names. The new names that were excitedly shouted in his face as a beacon of pride that their grandfather had bestowed upon them. What was so wrong with the names they were given at birth? No one ever shouted those from the rooftops, said how excited they were to have them. They were, in part, named after multiple male members of their family and seemed to only be referred to them when called on at school.

Sam took another swig of beer, cleared his throat, and responded to the question, "Yeah, it goes with the job. There's always something going on. Never a dull moment out here."

"I reckon there's even more action and excitement in your house as well," Reed said. He grinned over at Sam, who raised an eyebrow. "Three boys that close in age? I can hardly handle my four."

"Four?" Sam repeated. He was sure he'd only seen Patrick, Noah, and Sydney around, as brief of an introduction he'd had with them. Boys would be boys, they wanted to play video games more than they wanted to sit around and have a decent conversation.

"My oldest, Julius, is in his first year of uni back home," Reed explained. He opened the grill, stepping back as a wave of heat flowed out from the container, squinting amongst the heat wave he saw inside. "We couldn't take him away from school when we decided to come out here. If my girls were in year 12, we would've kept them behind as well."

"Is he staying with anything while out there?"

"With my parents. They live nearby." Reed grinned over his shoulder. "I asked them to keep an eye on him. But he's the least likely one to get in trouble if we're being honest."

Sam immediately clocked into the shift in tone of Reed's voice. It was almost a bit guarded, but something he wanted to get off his chest as well. Sam had come across that sort of person before; the criminals he caught that were so eager to rat someone out, to reduce anything they may go through, but also hated the idea of having a target on their back because of their admission.

"You know how kids can be," Sam said.

He wasn't going to press on the topic unless Reed pushed on it first. Nevertheless, he was a bit curious. He was curious of anyone who moved to the area, you could never be too careful of those that came around him. He'd learned that lesson quickly after not taking Snyder seriously, after taking his presence for granted. After taking his family for granted. It certainly was one of the biggest regrets of his life.

Sam still woke up in a cold sweat on an off day, wondering if, when he went to check on his sons, they'd still be there. (Save for Tum-Tum's early morning wrestling practices).

"Don't I know it, sometimes I wonder why I decided to have six kids, but I wouldn't trade them for anything else." He paused and grinned at Sam. "For a large screen TV and more than five minutes before a shout of 'dad', maybe, but…"

Sam laughed loudly.

He could certainly agree to that.

He loved his children, absolutely loved them, life had become much more interesting once they came around. But, sometimes, he wouldn't mind a bit of normalcy. If that meant he had to leave his job or if they had to move again, maybe out of state that time, well, sacrifices could be made.

He was supposed to protect his family and those decisions weren't always the easiest one. There were many moments where he had to be the bad guy and would gladly take that roll, watching as his sons huffed and puffed, rolled their eyes and raced to their mom to plead with her to overturn any ruling he'd made. He remembered the long fiasco of Rocky arguing for a later curfew, shortly after their return from Japan.

"I know the feeling," he murmured.

And he did. It was a frivolous joke, a conversation topic he and Jerry had every now and then, just to relieve the stress. "What would you be doing right now if you didn't have kids?" That vacation you always wanted to go on? Get an even bigger house? Buy a better car? Work part-time to spend more time with your wife who has, inexplicably been by your side through everything? Take some real time off for yourself?

He could come up with every thought in the book of what he'd do without his kids around but understood the same feelings behind it all the same. They couldn't imagine moving forward in their lives without their kids.

And even if it meant they absolutely hated him, Sam would do anything for his family.

* * *

Back in the kitchen, Jessica and Renee shook their head as they watched their husbands converse over the grill, waving their hands back and forth, each holding onto a pair of tongs as they flipped the brisket back and forth.

"Can you imagine how men create friendships like that?" Jessica asked, shaking her head. "If they don't beat each other up, they somehow forge a friendship around food."

"Well, it's better than the alternative," Renee agreed, crossing her legs at the knee. Her brown eyes flashed with mischief. "They could be the sort of people that shout over the fence about their trees dropping leaves in their yards." Jessica smiled and laughed. "I'm sorry your father couldn't join us tonight."

"Yeah, he hasn't bene feeling very well lately," Jessica agreed, lowering her gaze to her glass of wine. "I'd hoped he'd be feeling better by today, but he just gets so tired easily. I keep telling him to slow down with the ninja training, but he can't help it." She shrugged. "Says it's the only thing that's really keeping him alive."

Renee smiled. "Has he thought of taking up gardening?"

Jessica laughed again. "Well, he does that, too." She cleared her throat. "After my mom died he makes sure to keep her garden thriving. He loves it almost as much as he loves ninja."

"Gomen'nasai," Renee said quietly.

"Arigatou gozaimasu," Jessica replied. She ran a hand through her hair almost wistfully. "I haven't thought about my mom in a long time. It's been so long since she passed."

"And your father lives with you now?" Renee asked.

Jessica bobbed her head. "Here and there," she said. "He's been staying with us more now than he has in the last year. The men in my family can be really stubborn," she added with a light laugh. "So he insists on going back to make sure things are cared for."

"I completely understand," Renee said. She gathered her hair in a ponytail and dropped it over her shoulders, gently pushing her own glass of wine between her hands. She stared into the wine bottle as if she were trying to read it.

"Do your parents live out here?"

"No, my parents are in New York, Reed's are back home. I moved there after meeting him in college, but I lived in New York all my life. It was hard to leave my parents, I keep trying to convince them to come out here since they're getting a bit older but…" She shrugged. "No matter how old you get, you're still just going to be their children."

"So why the move to California?" Jessica pressed. "That seems a bit far away just for a new job opportunity." She held up her hand, noticing Renee's slight pause. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Well." Renee's eyebrows twitched upwards. "It was a big move to make, Reed and I talked about it for a very long time before we left. But it was the right move for us."

"How'd you come up with that decision?" Jessica asked. She thought about how many times she and Sam had made the decision to move their sons around, and how often it affected them.

Almost as much as the kidnapping and their adventures had. But the boys hadn't seemed to realize how much it'd affected _them, _too. How it'd make them treat the boys like infants, having to check in on them when they were sleeping. Having to remind them to lock the door behind them. Having to remind them their new address and phone number when it changed. (She couldn't miss Colt's sarcastic comment of whether or not she wanted to sew their names into their underwear labels like camp parents did). They didn't understand the times they left the boys at home for a night out only for their anxieties to get the better of them and turn around only a half hour later. Time did heal all wounds, but it didn't mean it was easy for those wounds be healed.

"It wasn't too hard." Renee paused, as if unsure she wanted to add the rest of what she wanted to say. Jessica could see it in her face, in the way she looked over her shoulder towards Reed as if waiting for his permission. Nevertheless, Renee added, "My daughters were getting into some trouble at home, hanging with the wrong people, and we thought it was best if they got out of that environment for a little while."

Jessica nodded slowly, taking in the information. She'd worried the same about Colt as he grew up. Despite Brett being of his best friends—and one of the sweetest young men Jessica knew—there was a time where she wondered if his bad temper and natural rebellion would gravitate him towards some of the tougher people at school. They seemed to have some sort of respect with each other, she'd noticed their nods to each other when they were at school functions.

Much different than his interactions with the bullies Darren and Darryl.

"And it's great that they've all met," Renee continued. "Your sons seem to be really nice young men."

"Yeah, but raising them sure hasn't been a piece of cake," Jessica said sardonically.

"It never is." Renee held up her wine glass. "To making it this far." Jessica lifted her glass and the two clinked them against each other. Renee took a sip of her wine then frowned, lowering her glass. "Cake," She murmured. "Oh, I forgot to get some dessert." She abruptly stood from the counter and went to the island where her purse was. She reached into her wallet and pulled out a few twenties before going to the doorway that fed into the living room.

"So, what do you think of _Scarlett Letter_?" Riley asked Rocky. The two were sitting on couches facing each other. Though Riley, who felt comfortable in her own home had her feet drawn up on the cushions while Rocky had his feet firmly planted on the floor.

"It's okay, I guess," he said, spreading his hands. Then quickly changed his tune with, "It's not my most favorite, if we're being honest."

"It's one of the most boring books I've ever read," Riley corrected him, speaking so bluntly that Rocky's eyebrows show upwards. She ran a hand through her hair, her own eyes momentarily cocking up as she added, "I had to read it last year, unfortunately. You can borrow my notes if you want."

"You don't have to do that," Rocky politely objected.

"No worries, mate, I'm just trying to save you from potential death by boredom."

Renee took the opportunity to knock on the doorframe, grabbing the two teens' attention. "I hate to break up this riveting book club," she teased, making Riley roll her eyes and Rocky give a polite smile. "But I forgot to get some dessert." She held the bills out to her daughter. "Sweetie, do you mind running to the store to get some ice cream?"

Riley's irritated expression furthered, eyebrows lowering. "Why can't Rhu do it?"

"Because I asked you." Renee's voice turned almost steely. A trick that it seemed all mothers learned as soon as they started having children. A simple look or change of tone would send children scattering to do whatever it was that was asked, simply not to be asked a second time. Because if they were asked a second time, or if their mother got to counting…the end result was never a good thing. You had to be a fool to test it. "Where is your sister, anyway?"

"In the backyard with Colt, I think," Riley replied, pulling herself off the couch. She held up her hands, palms facing her mother. "If you hear a window break, it wasn't me this time."

"'It'd more likely be my brother," Rocky agreed. "So I apologize in advance, Mrs. Jackson."

"I'll keep that in mind." Renee said with a light laugh. She gave the money to her daughter, giving her a kiss on the side of the head, making Riley's irritated expression fade and a smile replace it.

Jessica leaned over and locked eyes with her son. "Rocky, why don't you go with her?"

"Oh. No," Rocky started to wave his hand. "I wouldn't want to—" He paused, that time receiving a look from his own mother that made him stand up almost immediately. "I mean, if you don't mind," he added quickly.

Jessica gave a half smile, knowing it wouldn't take too much convince him. At least, not much pressure on her part. Even from the way he stood casually, hands in the pockets of his jeans she could tell it wouldn't take much. It was something she greatly admired about her eldest, he didn't like to make waves unless he absolutely had to, keeping himself and his strength restrained.

"It's fine," Riley agreed. "Let's go."

* * *

Rocky followed Riley back to the garage as he slipped his feet into the shoes he left there. He waited for Riley to put on her shoes and grab her keys before following her out to the van. He started toward the right side of the car, reaching for the passenger seat door when she said, "Excuse the mess."

"Huh?" Rocky looked up, eyebrows furrowing.

"In the back." She motioned toward the back of the minivan. "Sorry for the mess," She repeated. She unlocked the doors and Rocky slid into the passenger seat, he twisted toward the back while grabbing the seatbelt and noticed a stack of surfboards and towels haphazardly placed in the space that the last seats would've been had they not been folded down.

"You like to surf?" He asked.

Riley lifted an eyebrow, starting the car. The side of her mouth turned up. "What was your first clue?" She teased. "You ever been?"

"To the beach?" Rocky replied. "Yeah, plenty of times." He smiled when Riley rolled her eyes towards him, then focused her attention on backing out of the driveway. "I'm kidding." He didn't really understand why the need to explain that. Nervous energy was never something he could typically break through as soon as he'd like. "I've never been surfing, though. Colt's always wanted me to try."

"Then you haven't lived. Being one with the ocean, one with the Earth…there's no other feeling like it."

Rocky's made a sound of surprise. He hadn't expected her to be so…well, he wasn't quite sure the word. Wasn't what he expected, really. "I've heard it has some meditative properties." He had no idea why he said that but considering the way she made a quiet humming sound, it sounded promising. "Sort of like what grandpa teaches us about being a ninja; being friendly to your environment, being friendly to yourself, knowing how everything is connected." He licked his lips. "It mixes deep focused thought, stretching, and healing to integrate the ninja's body and mind to give the power to block out everything around them but the task at hand." Riley continued to nod along quietly. "Sorry. I know most people find this stuff to be pretty boring."

"Then you need to be around different girls," Riley said.

Rocky almost didn't notice her subtle change in subject, her switching the topic from people in general to girls. Almost. He couldn't say with one hundred percent honesty that he didn't enjoy some of the attention he got for his ninja training.

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied with a half-smile. He started when her phone suddenly dropped into his lap. He caught it before it hit the floor. "What's this for?"

"You can choose anything you want to listen to," Riley said, in response to Rocky's confused glance. She held up a finger. "Keep in mind, I don't usually do this."

"Why-?"

"—Because I like you, Rocky," Riley interrupted. She shrugged. "And, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not doing so well with the friend department out here, hey?"

"How are you liking California so far?"

Riley checked over her shoulder before merging, using a sharp tug of the wheel that made Rocky's stomach lurch and wonder if she would've still made the move without checking her blind spot. Since his first foray into driving, on a mission to save Jo, Rocky used endless amounts of hours dedicated to practice driving to become better and more comfortable behind the wheel. (Though there were still a few close calls when working on not being distracted by other people in the back seat).

"We've been to California before, just not longer than a week. Moving sucks," she added flatly.

"I know the feeling," Rocky agreed. He gently set her phone aside adding, "I don't mind listening to the radio. Or not listening to anything at all." He set her phone down, not wanting to accidentally go through her personal items. Didn't want to be known as a snoop, though he did glance at the screen curiously for a brief moment.

Riley chuckled quietly. "You would," she commented.

It was a lighthearted comment, he could hear it in her voice, and yet Rocky couldn't help but feel a little annoyed in the same vein she would've been had Colt or Tum-Tum said the same thing. "What does that mean?"

"It means, you seem like the kind of person that would prefer to take the easiest option," she explained. "And, in that aspect, not go through what many would consider, something private, despite me giving you permission to go through my music." She lifted a finger. "Either you're a gentleman, or you don't like to bring a lot of attention to yourself. I went with the latter." She started to smile a little before chuckling und her breath.

Rocky rolled his eyes. "That's so not funny."

"That's _very _funny, actually," Riley contradicted.

"You hardly know me."

"You're right." Riley nodded once. "So, let me get to know you." She thought for a minute. "No, let me guess. If I get something right, you'll say I'm right, and if I'm wrong, I'm wrong."

"You sound very confident."

Riley shrugged. "I try."

"Alright." Rocky got more comfortable in his seat, instead of sitting up straight—like he had a stick up his ass, as Colt would say—he slouched, dropping his feet further into the stairwell. "Go ahead."

Silence stretched through the car for a moment. Rocky watched as Riley tapped her chin with her fingertips, keeping her eyes on the road. Finally, she said, "You don't like your haircut." He lifted an eyebrow. "You only ever wear your hat and when you take it off, it's to fix your hair. So, you've either got some emotional attachment to it, or you hate your haircut. And, I reckon if you had an attachment to your bloody hat you wouldn't let anything happen to it, let alone wear it out and about."

Rocky conceded that thought, nodded. "Right," he agreed.

"Okayyy," she drawled, thinking of another statement to make. "Your favorite color is green."

"Right."

"You're an athlete."

Rocky shook his head. "That was an obvious one, that doesn't count," he contradicted.

"I never said my statements had to be fucking thought provoking," Riley reminded him. "You're the Big Man on Campus."

"Wrong."

"Really?" Her eyebrows rose.

"You sound surprised."

"I am."

"Believe me, it's not that surprising," Rocky said.

He didn't have the personality for it. Didn't enjoy being in the spotlight too much. Not after how often he was recognized on the street, stopped for questions, had a microphone shoved in his face, and did interviews over the phone. Celebrity and infamy were things he was no longer interested in understanding. Not when he and his brothers were the poster children for it.

He was sure they'd end up in a history book somewhere.

"And I don't think it'd be that fun," Rocky concluded.

"Well you know what they say about privacy when you're in the public eye," Riley said. "It becomes public property." Rocky mulled it over. "There's no such thing as absolute privacy, people are going to talk about people." She pulled into the parking lot of the ice cream shop. "It just depends on how much you give them to talk about."

She punctuated her statement, stamping on the emergency break by her left foot and turned off the car. Riley climbed out the car, prompting Rocky to follow her. The two went inside and as Riley went up to the counter, Rocky made a cursory sweep around the shop. He couldn't help it, it'd become a habit over the years. Not just to know if there were anyone coming close to him, who may be trying to attack him, but because of those who would recognize him and swamp him, asking for autographs and pictures.

Riley was wrong about that. Why he continuously wore his hat. He kept it nearby so to change his appearance when needed. Emily always said he was paranoid, but she didn't get it. She got the part of the anxiety, of the PTSD, of the constant questioning by doctors and police, but she didn't get the level of fame that came with it.

She could duck under the radar and no one would be the wiser unless she said something specifically. His face was a homing beacon, available to anyone who hadn't let the '3 Ninjas' fade into obscurity and live their own lives. Which, in essence, was part of the reason he was growing anxious about going to college so close to home.

Rocky stood aside, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he waited for Riley to give their order. He gently twisted back and forth, kicking at the floor as he waited, never been able to sit still in a new place for the first few minutes. He let out a long breath, closing his eyes as he worked to keep himself calm and focused. Relief washed over him as he felt himself relax.

Only for them to tense up again the second Riley turned to face him. Because, within that second, he noticed a few things at once. The ice cream shop was too empty for a nice, warm day from where it was situated, on the other side of the shopping plaza that held his pizza shop. The teen behind the counter barely said anything while he finished up Riley's order, continuously shifting his gaze to the side.

No, not to the side.

Just behind her.

And just behind him.

Of which Rocky hadn't noticed until Riley turned to say something to him and her eyes shifted to just behind him as well. All at once, Rocky's muscles tensed. Due to his relaxed state on seconds before, he recognized the air around him moving before he recognized the fist coming toward the back of his head.

Muscle memory came into play; Rocky shifted his head to the left, lifted his hands, and grabbed the arm that flew over his shoulder. "Kiya!" He simultaneously pulled the arm forward and slammed his elbow into the forearm of whomever was trying to attack him.

"Argh!" The man that attacked him cried out from the blow of Rocky's elbow seconds before his mouth slammed into the side of the counter. Blood spurted out as teeth dropped from the man's mouth to the ground.

"Ai, aiya!" Rocky let go of the man's arm and spun the other way, bringing up his leg in a high roundhouse kick, striking the man in the back, driving him forward even further.

The man slumped over the counter before falling to the ground.

Rocky whirled around and pulled himself atop the counter just as another man lunged toward him. He rolled to his side, leaned on his weight onto his left arm, and brought up his feet. "Kiya!" He did two rapid-fire kicks that knocked the man's head back and forth, then kicked him in the chest, knocking him back.

The man gained a second wind within seconds, lunging toward Rocky once more. He reached behind him and grabbed the ice cream cone that the frozen in fear teenage associate held onto. Rocky reached around and shoved the ice cream into the man's face with enough force behind it that it drove his palm into the man's face.

Rocky took the opportunity to leap down from the counter and fall into a fighting stance, fists close to his face. Close enough to protect him in case someone tried to get around him, but not too far that they could be driven back to cause himself any damage. He brought himself to the balls of his feet, preparing himself to spring forward or rapidly backpedal.

There was a third man, he knew it was coming. These people never came by themselves and two was too little. Four were too many. And a group even bigger was to make it easier for he and his brothers to be taken down. The third man, a shorter, but more muscular man glared at Rocky, baring his teeth with how quickly his friends had been taken down.

He lunged toward Rocky, aiming a punch directly toward Rocky's face. Rocky ducked and spun to the man's other side, making him whirl around. Then there was another swing towards Rocky's face and he did the same. The man let out a growl of frustration and started once more, this time without his fists, making Rocky quickly assess the situation.

A quick hit to the gut would do it. It was a fifty-fifty chance, either the man worked mostly on his outward appearance, the look of his entire body, or he was one who wanted to appear touch, working only on his arms and legs and leg his gut fleshy and malleable. Rocky took the chance on the latter. He tensed all his muscles, let out a kiai and spun to drive his heel into the man's stomach.

However, instead of feeling a squishy midsection, Rocky felt nothing but strong stomach muscles beneath his foot. A kick to the solar plexus that should have, if anything, knocked the wind out of the man, but didn't do as such. Instead, the man took the blow and grabbed Rocky's leg, knocking him to the ground.

Rocky did a kip-up back to his feet and fell into another fighting stance as the man reached for him again. Riley leapt up onto the man's back from behind, wrapping her arms around his neck. Rocky saw the man's eyes widen at the sudden attack before he brought his hands up to try and wrench her off. Riley shifted upwards, bringing her knees up so that she pressed her feet into his ribs and used it as a springboard to launch herself even higher and wrap her legs around his throat.

Using her body weight, Riley slung herself around the man's body before using the momentum to flip him to the ground. She leaned over the man and punched him hard in the face before leaping back to her feet. Rocky turned his attention to the first two men, who were on their way out the ice cream shop, running as fast as they could. Seeing the same, Riley ran forward grasped the back of the chair nearest to her, flipped herself over it, and landed on her feet on the ground. She swung her upper body over and threw the chair in a flip throw.

Rocky flung himself to the ground, swiping his body to the side as the chair flew overhead and struck the man in the back of the head. The man fell to the ground, scrambled to his feet and started to run again. Rocky pushed himself up and raced after them. He leapt into the air, doing a scissor kick, "Aiya!" That sent the man sprawling forward, crashing into the door to the ice cream shop, grabbing the push bar as he went, throwing him outside.

The man got to his feet and ran toward the waiting truck in the street; a pale gray with rust spots all over, reminiscent to the persistent chicken pox he and his brothers had caught when they were young. Rocky raced toward the street, pressing his lips together as he watched the car tear down the street. He clenched his hands into fists, thinking. They had to be have been following them for a while for them to get the men in and out without detection. If that were the case, then Jack had been watching them just as long, if not longer, than he'd been out of prison. And if that were the case, then Jack had more tricks up his sleeve than they originally thought.

_Damn it, _Rocky thought. He turned from the street and looked back at the ice cream parlor, watched as the teen associate slowly pulled himself—quaking and all—out from behind the counter and Riley looked at him with an unreadable expression.

Rocky looked back at her.

Riley cocked her head. "What?" She asked.


	16. Tell The Truth

**Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

Rocky looked up at the sound of a low thud. He frowned, sticking his finger in the spine of his book and listened hard. Then he sighed, tilting his head back so far that it rested on the headrest and stared at the ceiling. His shoulder twinged as he did so. A reminder of what had happened that night, of the painful twisting that'd come from maneuvering himself away from the grasp on his shoulders. He was ashamed, in a way. Ashamed that he allowed himself to be so caught off-guard when the release of Jack from prison should've kept him on his toes.

He let his guard down.

All because he had to be on his best behavior for a dinner that could've gone better. And probably would've gone better had it not ended up abruptly with the phone call he'd had to make to his parents. "Um," he said as soon as his father answered the phone. "First of all, I'm okay," he said.

That immediately threw up a red flag for Sam. His tone turned dark, breathing even despite sounding rough, something Rocky wasn't sure he was able to do. But it was comforting, to know that his father still took his sons' safety seriously despite how much older they were getting. Despite how, at times, it seemed that his work was much more important than being on time to discuss grades, to watch soccer games or wrestling matches. Especially when something "big" came up.

It was hearing his father's voice like that, that made Rocky spill his guts and explain everything that happened. That they'd gotten to the ice cream shop and had been attacked. That, no, he didn't get a good look at the faces that'd attacked him. That they were smart enough to stay behind him so he didn't get a chance to identify them. That everything happened too fast and…as luck would have it (Rocky had asked) the security footage of the ice cream shop was non-existent as their cameras weren't pointed toward the registers in that angle.

Even Sam had snorted at that.

But there was a part, a big part that Rocky had left out as he explained what'd happened. He watched Riley's face the whole time that he explained this father that they were attacked, that everything was okay…and that he fended them off. Didn't say anything about how she had leapt into the fight at the end. She didn't even mention it when she took the phone from him and spoke to her own parents, reiterating what Rocky had said, that they were okay and they were on their way back.

It was going to move like clockwork. Rocky would explain to his father what happened, be looked over by his mother as she tried to figure out if there were any injuries that needed to be treated, and then he'd give his statement to the local news and the newspaper, just as they always did. It was their responsibility, to let the city know what was going on.

Rocky craved anonymity in moments like that, not wanting to go to school with everyone asking him about it. But had grown used to the fact that attention would be on him, even if he didn't say anything. The news would leak out. The '3 Ninjas' had saved the day again, even if it were just one of them.

The ride back to the Jacksons' house was silent, save for the music that poured from the speakers. A stark contrast to the conversation he and Riley held on the way up. Then the drive form that house and back to _their _house had been even quieter. The calm before the storm. The silent fuse that slowly moved to the bomb, ready to ignite.

A bomb that exploded in the deafening quiet between his mother's hiss of, "You'll wake the boys," and his father's response of, "I don't give a damn!"

He heard a quiet gasp after that and frowned. It wasn't a gasp from his mother. He wouldn't have been able to hear it. But having heard it, and a hissing, "shh" afterwards, Rocky knew exactly who it was. He got out of his chair and walked to the door. He thought of yanking it open with a sudden flourish, just as he had done the times he was sure his brothers were spying on him—and they were, falling into a heap on the floor of his room before belting out another rendition of 'Rocky Loves Emily.' But, instead, quietly eased it open to find his brothers immediately garb his arms and pull him forward to join their Scooby-Stack, with Rocky at the top, pressing his ear to the door, Colt in the middle, bending slightly so that he didn't tower over his brother, and Tum-Tum kneeling on the floor.

"I'm just saying we shouldn't jump to any rash decisions," They could hear their mother saying along with a shuffling sound. Rocky knew the sound, his father was pacing the floor, just as he did when paced in his office, a sort of sliding pace that was aggravated from an old injury while in the line of fire. "We don't want to upturn their lives again!"

"Their lives were upturned the second Harding was released from prison!" Sam snapped in response. Rocky could practically envision him, perfectly swept back hair hanging around his face in tendrils. Cheeks flushed with anger at a lack of control, frustration at not knowing what to do, and desperation to figure out how to end it all. "I should've known he would do something to get back at them!"

"We don't know it was him," Jessica pointed out.

"Bullshit!" The curse flew from Sam's mouth like a bullet, striking his sons as they all jerked back, exchanging surprised expressions. "Of course, we do!"

"No, Sam, we don't! And you running around accusing people isn't going to help anyone. It's not going to help the boys." She paused. "We don't know _how _to help them. This is bigger than anything we've ever had to worry about. We haven't had any of them come back. This have been peaceful here."

"They're _never _peaceful here, Jessica! It's LA!"

Silence.

Then, "So what do you expect us to do?"

"I expect you not to coddle them."

"Coddle them?!" Jessica's voice turned incredulous. Offended. "I don't coddle them."

"You treat them like they're going to break at any slight inconvenience, Jess."

"I'm their mother!"

"And I'm their father, and you don't see me acting like every little thing is going to tear them down! Tum-Tum can hardly do anything without having to run to you for help." A pause. That gave the chance for Tum-Tum to make a face and Colt to smirk slightly, twisting over his shoulder to look at Rocky. Rocky did his best not to allow any expression other than a neutral one to come to his face; Colt and Tum-Tum could say he got all the attention as much as he wanted, nothing beat the baby of the family. The expression slid from his face when Sam added, "Don't look at me like that, you know it's true. You treat him like he's still a baby, and you hover over Rocky and Colt the second they're out of your sight!"

Colt grunted.

"It's better than the way _you _treat them! You act like they're little soldiers, where, if they don't fall in line and follow everything you do, they failed you."

"I don't do that."

"Yes, you do! With the way you holler at them on the baseball field—"

"—That's baseball, this is their _lives_!"

"I know that! They're my sons, too! And don't you _dare _act like you care about them more than me." She took a shaky breath. "Don't you dare act like I'm the one that's failed this. Failed us."

"Us?" Sam sounded incredulous. His voice turned fainter as he walked away from her. Rocky was sure he was going to the closet, tearing at the tie he hadn't taken off from returning from work and going straight to the Jacksons' house. "What the hell does that mean?"

"You know exactly what that means."

Rocky pushed himself form the door, not wanting to hear anything else. He felt something shift, something in the air change. He'd regret it if he continued to listen. "Go to bed."

"Shh," Colt and Tum-Tum replied. But when Rocky didn't rejoin them at the door, they turned to look at him with identical expressions of surprise. But it was Colt who spoke, asking, "Are you serious."

Rocky nodded. "Go to bed."

Tum-Tum folded his arms, turning from the door bust still kneeling with one knee to the ground. Even Rocky could see him quiver, trying his hardest to keep his balance. "Just because you're the oldest doesn't mean you get to tell us what to do."

Rocky folded his arms in response. "That's exactly what it means," he replied, then pointed to the side. Tum-Tum stared at him for a moment then sighed, pushing himself back to his feet and trudged to his room. Rocky then looked to Colt, who looked back at him defiantly.

"You can tell Tum what to do, but you can't tell me what to do," Colt replied. Rocky lifted his eyebrows. "Rock, they're arguing!"

"So?" Rocky shrugged.

It wasn't the first time he'd heard them arguing and it definitely wouldn't be the last. If he were honest, however, he was sure it was the first time Colt had heard them _really _fight. There had been disagreements here and there, and there had been low rumblings that Rocky could heard clearly if their voices got too loud, soaking through his walls as his room was nearest to theirs. He didn't want to tell them to tone it down, so he could sleep, didn't want to confront them with it when it was something he probably shouldn't be hearing anyway.

The last few times Rocky'd brought it up to Colt, he didn't go too far into details, probably wanted to protect him, in a way. Though he'd never admit that, no would Colt respond well to it. They all had the same abilities, they didn't need to protect each other. And, Colt _was _the one who faced guns in his face with a bravado that not even Rocky could come up with.

This time was worse; because they were fighting over him. Over the training they'd done for years. .Over their safety, because of the same threat that could potentially come to them every time they stepped out the door.

"It's not like they haven't fought before," Rocky pointed out.

"_So?_" Colt moved closer to his brother, lowering his voice so they wouldn't be heard. He shot his gaze towards Tum-Tum's closed door, pausing to see if he was trying to eavesdrop on them as well. "Rocky, this is a different kind of fight. This is different than the times they fight with each other about work and about what they do around the house and dad needing to be around more. This is about _us_. And they've _never _fought about us." He corrected himself when Rocky made a face. "Not like that."

"Well, it was bound to happen," Rocky replied. He waved his hand toward the door. "They're just worried, because of Jack and everything. I don't blame them. I know you're worried too." Colt snorted. "Colt, you're my brother. I know you."

"And you're _my _brother, and I know _you_. You're just as worried…" Colt blinked rapidly as he thought about it. Figured out a different word to explain how they felt. "You're just as suspicious as I am." He shook his head. "I hate to say it but…you can't think it's a coincidence of them showing up and what Tum told us and what happened at the diner."

Rocky wasn't quite sure what to think, honestly. He was a good judge of character, always had been. And there was nothing about the Jacksons that told him they were people they should stay away from. He didn't sense anything malicious from them, not as he had sensed it seconds before he almost had his face bashed into the counter at the ice cream shop. Nevertheless, there was the part of him that did wonder, that thought, maybe, there was truth to the whole 'keep your friends close, but your enemies closer'. That there was truth to 'looks can be deceiving'.

He was on the other side of that one; most people thought he was a good boy, albeit a shy one, not knowing he had the means to seriously injure them if he was pushed too far. If he wanted to. And there had been many times where he wanted to—primarily to Darren or Darryl when they found themselves sniffing around for a fight once more. (Though he'd hoped they would've gotten over it by then).

"I don't know what to think," Rocky admitted, speaking slowly. "But I do know we have to be careful about all of this. And…that we shouldn't talk about it anymore. Not tonight." He nodded towards Colt's room.

Colt huffed, but did as he was told, all but slamming the door behind him. Rocky went to go back to his own room. A sigh escaped his lips as he turned his gaze to the sheet of paper that barely stuck out form his textbook. Far enough that he knew what it was but tucked in so no one else could see and ask for it. A brochure for a college campus.

That night definitely wasn't the night to talk to his parents about what schools he wanted to go to. He took off his glasses and folded the arms, sticking it in the collar of his shirt and moved to go back into his room, stopping only when he heard his name called.

"Rocky."

It was quiet, but filled with a quiet strength.

His grandfather was calling him.

Rocky immediately about-faced and went down the hall to his grandfather's room, passing the staircase as he went. He remembered how hard his mother had tried to convince her husband and her father that Mori should take over Sam's bottom floor office as his bedroom and turn the spare bedroom upstairs to his office. But both men, who claimed they didn't have much in common, said things were fine the way they were.

Pushing open the door, Rocky waited for his grandfather to officially invite him in before going in. He smiled at his grandfather, seeing him sitting up in bed, reading a gardening magazine. A magazine he lowered to his lap before giving a mischievous smile, eyes twinkling as he said, "I see you haven't mastered the art of not snooping," he remarked.

A bashful smile came to Rocky's face as he lowered himself to the floor, wrapping his arms around his legs. "I wouldn't call it snooping."

"But a ninja knows when to stick to their own business."

"A ninja wouldn't have to worry about it if their parents were quieter." Rocky smiled, scratching the back of his head when Mori let out a wheezing chuckle. "How are you doing, grandpa?"

"Oh, I'm alright," Mori replied. "I've had better days."

"Mom's said you've been going to a lot of appointments."

"Ah!" Mori waved his hand towards his eldest grandson, turning his gaze out the window, to the moonlight that poured over the backyard. "Your mother worries. She wants me to see the doctor every time I hiccup." Rocky laughed. "And every time I have some indigestion. I just don't have the heart to tell my daughter he cooking is killing me." He continued to laugh with his grandson. "Rocky, your know this burden isn't yours to bear alone," he added, voice turning serious. "Colt and Tum-Tum are older, you should trust them more."

"I _do _trust them!" Rocky frowned, hearing how earnest his voice was. "I don't trust anyone more than I trust them. I don't think I could." He removed his hat and raked a hand through his hair. "I just…I want them to beokay."

"When you're gone, you mean?"

Rocky nodded, licking his lips.

"It's not like you won't be back."

"The way everyone's talking about it, it's like I'll be gone forever. And now that Jack is here…I don't know."

"You've taken care of him before." Mori looked at Rocky out the corner of his eye. "If I remember correctly, you boys were sneaking out of my house all the time to meet that girl…to help you to face him."

"Jo, yeah." Rocky smiled. "But…things were easier then. This is different."

"How so?"

"Because…because there are higher stakes. Because there's a lot we don't know. When Harding was around before, he was just using his land to dump. What does he want now? What people is he going ot hurt now? Is he out for revenge? Has he changed? What are we supposed to do—"

"—You know the answer to that!" Mori frowned.

Rocky waved a hand. "I know, don't strike first. A ninja never strikes first." He clenched his hand into a fist, long enough for his fingertips to turn numb. "But he struck first tonight, grandpa."

"Do you know that for sure?" Rocky's silence was Mori's answer. Mori placed his hands in his lap and was silent for a long time. For a moment, Rocky was sure his grandfather had fallen asleep. But, finally, he said, "Just as you can't strike first, you can't act as if you know everything others are going to do."

"But grandpa, you always tell us to be prepared, to get in the mind of our opponent. To always be two steps ahead. How can I do that if I don't act like I know what the other person is going to do?" All at once, Rocky was transported back to when he was first leaning martial arts, when he worked through the confusing oxymorons that were told to him. Be quiet so your opponent doesn't hear you, but scream your kiais as loud as possible. Each lesson growing more confusing as time passed.

Or maybe that was the point.

Mori smiled. "That's one of the great mysteries of being a ninja," he remarked. "Of knowing which path to follow."

Rocky nodded. And gazed at his grandfather, watched him as he turned back to the magazine in his hands. How he sighed wistfully and turned the pages. Rocky took the chance to look around his grandfather's room and frowned, only noticing how bare it seemed. There were pictures here and there, but not as much decoration as he'd have expected his grandfather to have put up in the time he'd been at the house. Sure, he didn't live there permanently, still had his weekends at the cabin in the mountains, but he should've put up more, right?

A thought suddenly struck Rocky. That, maybe, his grandfather didn't want to put up any pictures or decorations. Didn't see the point of it. Rocky's eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head, mind moving a mile a minute. _Maybe he doesn't see the point, _he thought. _Because he knows something we don't. _Rocky blinked hard, sitting up straight.

Shook his head.

Tried to force the thought out.

Because it didn't make sense.

But it did.

It stared him straight in the face.

They were, in no way, prepared to go against all those boys in a ninja tournament. Not when they were only able to learn things by the summer and everyone else was able to practice martial arts year-round. Not when their martial arts training was a mixture of things that Rocky was sure were things he made up rather than being an actual part of the martial arts. Not when Mori had said time and time again that he'd never let them join a ninja competition let alone a tournament.

So why, all of a sudden, would he have changed his mind.

There was only one reason why and Rocky was sure he knew what it was. It struck him as suddenly as a kick to the ribs, a blow to the stomach. A wayward elbow to the fact—like the time that Tum-Tum had become a bit enthusiastic in his wanting to release himself from one of Rocky's holds and smacked him directly in the nose. Maybe, if he were being honest, he already knew the answer.

Knew from the way his parents looked at each other when they asked about him. Knew in the way their grandfather didn't go on as many trips as he used to. How it was harder for him to show off the moves that they would have to master as time went on. Rocky had seen it as the years went on, saw the way it was harder for him to stand up. Probably, if he were being honest, saw it in his grandfather's face when he mentioned it may be time for Rocky to take over for him and run the trainings with his brothers.

Rocky took in a deep breath through his nose. He looked at his grandfather, who merely looked back at him, hands resting on his knees, fingertips tightly tapping at his kneecaps. As if waiting for him to make the first move.

It was a lesson Rocky remembered his grandfather had put into his, Colt's, and Tum-Tum's heads as long as they could remember; never be the first one to strike. Always wait for it. The moment you give up the first strike was the moment you lost.

But this was something that Rocky had to do.

He _had _to know the truth.

"Tell me the truth, grandpa," Rocky said slowly, carefully. "Why did you let us join that ninja tournament when you knew we weren't going to win?" He looked his grandfather in the eye, practically dared him to lie. Didn't truly give Mori the chance as Rocky took in a deep breath, steeling himself for the potential response. "You're dying, aren't you?"


	17. Tailgating

**Chapter Seventeen**

* * *

"He's dying?" Emily frowned. "He really told you that?" She held up her hand, turning down the bag of chips offered her way. Jason shrugged and turned the opening of the bag back to himself, plunging a hand inside to grab a handful, crunching them loudly into his mouth. She and Rocky gave him a disapproving look.

"What?" Jason mumbled. "I'm hungry."

"You're _always _hungry," Emily countered.

Rocky smiled and nodded at the comment. Almost every time it was mentioned that Jason was going to be around his house, his mom always made a separate list of food to get, nearly doubling what she bought just for Rocky, Colt, and especially Tum-Tum. The days that Jason was still on the baseball team really clinched their food budget. Then Rocky's smile faded when he turned back into Emily's question.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, stopping to scratch at the back of his head, stalling for time. It was hard to say the words let alone to even think about them. It surprised him how easily it'd come out when he made plans to hang out with his best friends that day. He couldn't remember the last time they had since the school year started. He'd been too preoccupied with the ninja tournament and Jack and MedoCal…all of which were still resting heavily on his mind.

Outwardly, he'd gotten over Colt's accusation of letting him win, but it weighed heavily on Rocky. Almost as much as consistently being called a 'show off' and wondering what it was that made it bad for him to be confident but okay for Colt to be the same way. Perfect, nice, Rocky Douglass was as exhausting as it was to hold up his '3 Ninjas' persona when the time came.

"He didn't exactly say that," Rocky said slowly. "But I know my grandpa. He jokes around a lot, but I know when he's being serious. He doesn't like us to worry…even when he was put in the hospital because of a car accident in Japan, he didn't want us to worry."

"Wasn't that because those goons wanted some sort of gold or something?" Jason asked.

"A dagger," Rocky corrected.

Jason shrugged. "Whatever. All that stuff starts to blend in after a while. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if you managed to stop some sort of nuclear war from breaking out."

Emily scoffed and rolled her eyes. "It's really surprising that you manage to get dressed every day from how little you pay attention to things." She wrinkled her nose, letting out a 'ew' and whipped a napkin at Jason when he stuck out his tongue, showing off chewed up food at the tip of his tongue.

"And, yeah, all he got form that was whiplash," Rocky explained. "He was able to help us out later. But this time, it's different. I saw the look in his eyes." He paused for a minute. "He didn't say whether he was, he didn't even respond, just said that he was tired and wanted to go to sleep. But I could see it in his eyes."

"Do Colt and Tum-Tum know?" Emily asked.

Rocky shook his head, lowering his gaze to the countertop. Seconds before he felt Emily's gaze burning a hole into his forehead. "I _know_, Em, I don't need you to look at me like that. I'm going to tell them." He lifted his head and ran his hands over his face. "But…if it's true, mom and dad haven't said anything to us about it."

"Probably because they want to be sure you can handle it," Emily said gently.

At that, Rocky gave her a 'duh' look. "Why do you think I haven't told Colt and Tum-Tum yet? Colt would probably destroy the house, and Tum…well…you know how sensitive he is. I'm just glad he was too young to remember grandma. It probably would've killed him."

"So, what are you going to do?" Jason asked. He finally set the bag of chips aside and folded his arms, resting them against the otherwise spotless counter. "Are you just going to 'wait for the perfect time'?" He used air quotes around the words. "Because I hate to break it to you, dude, but the perfect time doesn't exit."

"I hate to say it," Emily said slowly. "But he's right." Jason practically preened like a peacock, making Emily punch him on the arm. "If you wait too long, it's just going to have Colt and Tum-Tum angry that you didn't tell them sooner."

"Not unless they haven't already figured it out themselves," Jason pointed out. "They're smart. They probably noticed some things, too. Would it be worse if they found out themselves or form you?" Rocky shrugged, pursing his lips as he thought about it. "You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, dude. Sooner or later it's going to bury you. Your brothers can take care of themselves."

Emily shot him a critical look. "So, you want him to lie to them?"

"No. I'm just saying you have to handle this delicately. And expect that, no matter what, someone's going to end up hurt. It may be you, it may be your brothers, and it may be your grandpa. But the most important thing here, is that you should be there for your grandpa."

"I know." Rocky nodded. He lifted his eyes toward Emily and gave a small smile. "Thanks, Em."

Emily beamed, her entire face lighting up. Rocky felt something squirm in his stomach as he matched her smile with one of his own. He noticed Jason lift an eyebrow but didn't call him out for it. It wasn't a conversation he wanted to start. "You're welcome." Her expression the morphed into one of concern. She laced her fingers together. "Now, what happened at the ice cream shop and should we be worried?"

"How'd you know about that?" He hadn't said anything to any of his friends about it. Didn't give much information to anyone other than his parents and the police when asked. Not just because he didn't want anyone in his business—he really didn't like people to worry about things they didn't need to worry about—but because he didn't need to drag them down into any unnecessary danger. Not to mention, if it _was _linked to Harding in some way, they didn't need the information getting out.

"There was a small story about it on the news," Emily explained.

"And considering how quickly the attack was stopped, it didn't take much for us to figure out it was probably you or your brothers who were involved," Jason jumped in. "So, what happened?"

Rocky shrugged. "Nothing too out of the ordinary. Some loser looking for a fight they didn't realize they'd lose." He smirked. "Or someone who doesn't realize that the son of an FBI Director doesn't carry a lot of money on them." He waved a hand. "It was nothing worth mentioning."

"But you're okay?" Emily pressed.

"You've been in one fight, you've been in them all. If it was anything bigger than that, I would've mentioned it." Still, it wasn't completely normal. Not a run of the mill incident. Because he knew, just knew deep in his gut, it had something to do with Jack. There was no proof of it yet, but he knew. The evidence was starting to mount, and it was no coincidence, in his mind, that it'd happened since having first met the Jacksons either.

Some warning bells were starting to go off, but he couldn't quite tell what it was warning him of. And, honestly, he hated it. Hated how he was unable to figure out if it was his own worries and prejudices that were warning him, or if there was something else that he couldn't see coming that was worrying him.

"No, Sam, you would've tried to protect us from it," Jason accused. "Just like you're doing for your brothers." Rocky opened and closed his mouth, trying to figure out how true the accusation was. "Which is fine, the last thing I want is a freaking gun in my face, but we're still your friends, dude. Your best friends, and we deserve the truth."

"Okay."

Rocky understood that. And valued it. Jason and Emily _were _his best friends. Emily had been in a situation of kidnapping and other traumas because of him, understood what it was like firsthand. And while Jason, so far, had managed to completely avoid that sort of thing, save for the stories, he went into it with an open mind but with a breath of fresh air.

He was the only one in his life who routinely called him 'Sam' and talked about everything but his ninja past so much so that sometimes Jason forgot he was a mini celebrity in that way. If he were willingly asking about it now, it was something he really was worried about it.

And so he explained everything that'd happened; how he'd been attacked and how Riley had been able to fend off the guys that had attacked her with ease. Concerning ease.

Jason snorted at that. "Oh yeah, finding someone else like you is so worrying," he said sarcastically. "Like you and your brothers are the only ones who can fight people off if they're trying to attack you." He motioned to Emily. "She's taken self-defense classes and Jo is a freaking warrior, but you're worried that someone new isn't an easy target?"

Rocky turned his glance toward Emily, who looked back at him, making the two shake their heads. That was probably the only downside of Jason being outside of his '3 Ninjas' life. That he tended to roll his eyes and not really understand the seriousness of some things.

"It is kind of weird," Emily admitted. She squirmed in her seat. "Actually, there's something else I know…" She bit her lower lip, thinking for a moment before leaning forward, a conspiratory look on her face.

Jason rolled his eyes. "We're alone here, Em. No one's listening in on us."

Rocky looked around Jason's kitchen at the comment. At the immaculate kitchen that his parents seemed to freak out about when there was even a hint of a crumb anywhere. As immaculate as the rest of the house, which proved the point that Jason's parents were never home. If Rocky were being honest, the reason Jason seemed to latch onto him so easily as a friend was because he as lonely.

Who wouldn't be if they were an only child to parents whose jobs kept them from being home so often that by the age of six their child was self-sufficient. And that was even before Jason had moved to California. The first time Rocky realized Jason was alone was shortly after they'd become friends. Jason had invited him over to his house for a sleepover and thought it was normal to say 'no one' in response when Mrs. Douglass asked who was going to supervise them. Instead, Jason slept over at Rocky's house anytime a sleepover was talked about.

Rocky still offered Jason to stay the night, or to stay for dinner if he knew his parents were gone for the day, the weekend, or even the week, and Jason continuously refused. He even refused any offers of money if Jason made the comment that there wasn't any food in the house and he'd already run out of the money his parents gave him to last for the week.

Jason didn't like handouts and was used to his life. However, Jason always joked that his parents had cameras all over the place to make sure he wasn't doing anything wrong. Rocky didn't believe it, though, at the same time, he didn't think there was much merit to it.

"Anyway, I've heard that part of the reason the Jacksons moved here was because they'd gotten into some sort of trouble where they're from," Emily said. "Not the parents, but I've heard it was mostly Riley and Rhuben, but Patrick and Noah had gotten into some of it as well. Or were starting to, which was what made the dad take their job here. Just to get them away."

Jason snorted. "If that's the case, I'm sure I should be saying goodbye to you, soon, Sammy." He reached out and patted Rocky on the shoulder. "With all the trouble you guys get into, something's bound to get your dad to his breaking point to move you again."

Rocky shook his head. "Dad's already promised that we don't have to leave again unless we absolutely have to," he said. He then responded to Emily's comment. "How do you know this?"

Emily tried and failed to keep a smug smile from coming to her face. "I'm trying to be a journalist, I have source that know things." She held up a finger. "And I can't reveal my sources."

"Right, you're a real Diane Sawyer," Jason said impatiently. "What sort of trouble are you talking about? Like, arrested? Are they going to jail?"

"Being arrested and being charged are two different things," Rocky pointed out, almost moving on autopilot to correct his friends with what he'd known over the years from his own experiences and from listening to his father. "You can be arrested and questioned and be let go and absolved of anything, but if you're charged, it means that you're an actual suspect and you may or may not be heading to a trial. If that was anything that happened, I don't think they'd be here."

Jason opened and closed his hand as Rocky talked, waiting for him to finish. When he did, he jerked his head toward Emily and asked, "So, what'd they do?"

It was then that Emily looked a little less sure of herself. She licked her lips, twisting her fingers together. "That's all I know for sure. But…considering what's happened with the ice cream parlor, it doesn't surprise me that much."

Rocky frowned. _But it doesn't necessarily mean they have anything to do with Harding, _he thought. Which…sort of made things that much more difficult to figure out. He hummed and scratched at his hairline, eyebrows pinching together as he tried to make sense of everything.

"Anyway, I've got to get home," Emily said. She hopped down from the stool at the counter and picked up her large purse, rubber banded papers stick out the top, threatening to spill over with her next movement. "I've got a story for the paper I need to work on."

"I see how it is. You come over here just to eat my food and leave when things are getting interesting."

"Consideirng all you have is this bag of chips, I don't think I'm missing out on much," Emily said. She paused, moving her hand toward her purse. "'I've got some change left from lunch this week, if you nee—"

Jason held up his hand, immediately cutting her off. "I'm fine, thanks," he said.

Emily exchanged a glance with Rocky, who shrugged, then nodded. "I'll see you later, then."

"Bye," Rocky and Jason bid her goodbye as she left, slipping out through the living room. Rocky turned back to Jason, resting a chin in his hand, watching when Jason swiped the bag off the counter to return it. He caught a glimpse of the emptiness inside. "You know she's just trying to help."

"Yeah, in that nosey way of hers," Jason replied. "Always asking, 'what's going on' and can't take 'no' for an answer." He turned and pointed at Rocky. "She's going to make a great journalist."

"I know," Rocky agreed. "But she's not wrong." Jason sighed in frustration. "I know you don't like handouts or anything, but you can't starve until your parents get back." Jason started to protest, but Rocky cut him off. "And it's not a hand out if your best friend is offering."

"I have money," Jason insisted.

"How much?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter, they're going to be back soon."

"Not soon enough. Come on, we're going to the store."

At that, Jason's lips pulled back into an amused smile. "You're willing to take my car to get there?" Rocky frowned, suddenly remembering that he had, indeed, walked to Jason's house that day to hang out with his friends. He could walk them back to his place and go from there, but the time it'd take to get there in the sweltering heat, to shower, then change, then leave against wasn't worth it.

And it especially wasn't worth it to have to pretend that he hadn't heard his parents' argument and that his grandfather hadn't told him what he had. There were things Rocky could ignore and pretend didn't exist, but those two instances weren't one of them.

"At least I'll know that's where all your money goes," Rocky commented, putting a lighthearted air to his voice. "I can at least hope it'll get us there without stalling enough times."

Jason thought for a moment. "It's been better than the last couple of weeks," he admitted. "But I can't guarantee that it won't stop at some point." He moved by Rocky, patting him on the shoulder once more. "And if it does, you're getting out and pushing, ninja boy."

At that, Rocky frowned. "Why me?"

"Because you're the one who I have a better chance of fending off anyone who wants to steal my tires or something."

Rocky laughed, followed Jason to the garage where his car sat. "They're not good enough to be stolen."

"Hey, don't talk about my baby like that. She's not much but she's mine."

Rocky laughed again, shaking his head. He wasn't quite sure why Jason continued to hold onto his car, or even why he held it in such high esteem when it broke down on nearly a daily basis, but it was something that made him proud and who could take that away from him? Just as playing baseball and excelling in his ninja training made Rocky proud. Others didn't understand it, but it only mattered that he did.

Rocky folded himself into the passenger seat of Jason's car and held his breath, waiting for the car to ultimately stutter, stall, and die before they even got out from the garage. He glanced at Jason' parents' car as Jason started the ignition, briefly wondering how they could have things so expensive, and he was stuck with a clunker. His attention was taken away by the car starting up on the first try and slowly peeling from the garage, barely missing the bottom of the door that opened.

Rocky winced, waiting for the loud scraping against the top of the car, but relaxed his shoulders when they cleared the space. "I hate it when you do that," he murmured, slouching low in the seat. Now that he wasn't driving, he didn't have to sit ramrod straight and hold the wheel so tightly his arms ached when he was done.

Or, as Tum-Tum said, he didn't have to be so uptight as he drove.

It wasn't his fault that Rocky wanted to make sure nothing happened to his brothers if he were driving them around. Not that he'd ever tell them that.

"You just need to relax," Jason said. "Though, I don't think it's going to be that easy considering what's happened." Rocky lifted an eyebrow but didn't respond. "You're already doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"That thing where you turn in on yourself," Jason explained. "When you put up some sort of a wall that no one can get into. It only happens when this ninja stuff goes on." He lifted a hand off the steering wheel and held onto the rearview mirror as it threatened to fall out, bouncing along with his car bouncing when Jason ran over bits of gravel. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Rocky said quickly. Then paused. Was that what Jason meant? When he was turning in on himself? He spoke slowly as he added, "Just thinking."

Jason nodded. He concentrated on the road as he asked, "So, what do you think of her?"

"Who?" Rocky asked, momentarily caught off-guard.

It was only a second that passed through him. He liked to make sure he was on top of things, frustrated if something manage to shift by his notice. But the second the word left his mouth, Rocky realized it was a dumb question. Considering what they were speaking about before, he knew exactly who Jason was referring to. And, considering he didn't have that usual smug smile that usually came up when they were talking about Emily.

And the roll of the eyes that Jason sent his way was enough to prove how dumb of a question it was. "Her," Jason insisted. He gestured vaguely with his hand then added, "Pizza girl."

Rocky laughed incredulously. "Pizza girl? That's what you're going to call her?" He paused, noticing Jason wasn't laughing with him. "You're not seriously going to call her that, are you? Emily nearly _killed_ you when you kept calling her 'Bike Girl'" Though Rocky did have to agree with Jason that she did get a little upset over 'just a bike'. Though he knew it had nothing to do with her bike that she was upset about.

She was upset that he was changing. Sure, her reaction to his new name was positive. But once he became 'Rocky' it was like he had a new lease on life. He could be whomever he wanted. Rocky wasn't someone who sat back and allowed life to happen to him, he attacked life. And so, it was that thought that spurned him to have a bit of fun before they started the first day of school that year. That had him racing through a construction site and pulling off high speeds and fast tricks with each jump that came his way, leaving him to forget that she was struggling to keep up with them.

So it was a bit of his fault that her bike was stolen. Not that they didn't get it back, but she sure didn't let him forget it. Even as they grew older she'd bring it up from time to time, which quickly prompted Jason to call her 'bike girl' after first meeting her, when he'd forget her name. He could be crass like that, but Emily was swift in making sure he remembered her.

As it was, Rocky didn't know Riley well, but he had a feeling she probably would kill Jason if she knew he was calling her Pizza Girl.

Jason conceded the remark with a shrug. Then asked, "Do you really think they're up to something? That they're part of…whatever's going on?"

"I don't know." There were little things here and there that made it seem obvious, Emily's admission of her findings of the Jacksons didn't help much. But it was Jason's sarcastic comment that leaned in back the other way. Someone who could defend themselves weren't out and out weird. If the tables were turned and he was in her position, Rocky knew a lot of people would be looking at him suspiciously. "I'm not sure."

"What about this Harding guy? You haven't said much about him since I showed you that newspaper article?"

"You mean since you tried to hide it from me?"

"Yeah, that."

"I'm not sure about that, either."

"I know we don't talk about it a lot, Sam, but if you ever need help with anything…" Jason cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. He glanced at the rearview mirror and faced forward once more. "I don't know what I can do, but if you need help with anything, you know I'm here."

"I know," Rocky agreed. "Thanks." He quickly changed the subject. Not that he didn't appreciate Jason's sentiment, but that he was telling the truth. It wasn't something that they talked a lot about and he wanted to keep it that way. Have a separate life as it were. Be 'Rocky' with those that had an up close and personal look at his ninja life and 'Sam' with the only person that didn't. "Let's go to the pizza shop instead."

"I thought you didn't like to go to work when you had the day off." Jason did as he was told, turning on the wheel to turn the corner. Rocky grabbed the handle of the passenger door, frowning at the speed that Jason took the corner.

"I don't," Rocky agreed. "But I'm really in the mood for pizza and a game of pool. Plus, Tony was saying there should be some good live music coming in soon. We can get a say on who plays."

He'd thought their boss was a bit crazy when he mentioned wanting to add a stage for live music to be played in the pizza shop, but it seemed to be working. It brought in more teens and young adults to the shop, the live music was heavily advertised over their social media accounts, and they sold more pizza on the weekends from the music alone. The only time it was a problem was if he was working a long shift any of those days.

Hours of throbbing music and the stress of slinging pizza after pizza wasn't always worth it.

"Gotcha."

Jason turned again, that time Rocky could swear he felt the ties on the side of the car lifting up. He shot a look at Jason, who glanced at him, at the rearview mirror, and at him again. "What's wrong?"

"I think someone's following me."

At that, Rocky lifted up and twisted around to look out the back window. Sure enough, there was a large truck driving close to them. Their bumper was close to Jason's, close enough that Rocky couldn't see the license plate, or anything otherwise distinguishable on the truck. Unfortunately, it was also raised high enough that he couldn't see the driver, either.

"Take another turn," Rocky instructed.

Jason did as he was told, taking another right. He spun the wheel hard, and the truck continued to stay on their tail. Rocky felt his heart sink. It did seem like they were being followed. What was it that his father said they were to do if that happened? Go straight to the nearest police station. _Something tells me that it's not going to help much this time around, _Rocky thought. He saw Jason's grip tighten on the steering wheel.

Swallowing hard, Rocky shifted his mind-set; thought of what he'd d if it were him and his brothers and someone they were trying to get away from. He immediately flashed back to his first attempts at driving, shortly after they met Jo, and how he'd worked to chase after those that had kidnapped their friend. They didn't need to worry too much about other people on the road then, now, with every intersection they came across, someone else was in danger.

"Right now would be a good time for your car to stall out, Jase," he commented.

"It's not like I can predict that sort of thing," Jason pointed out. The two groaned when there was a sudden bump from behind them that made their heads jerk forward, their bodies held firm from the seatbelts that protected them. "What the hell?"

Rocky twisted around once more. The truck backed up, pulled forward, and bumped the back once more. Then it started to honk wildly, slightly swerving back and forth in the lane as it did so. Biting his lower lip, Rocky faced forward once more.

"Keep going," he instructed.

"Are you crazy?!"

"They want to scare us, we need ot make sure we're getting as far away from innocent people as possible. Stay away from the city roads, take the back ones. It'll give us more time." Jason looked at him, eyes wide. "Do it!"

Nodding, Jason pulled hard to the left, quickly merging into the left lane to squeal through a yellow light and whip around a corner. The truck continued to stay close behind them, nearly clipping another car as it ran a red. Horns filled the air, filling the interior of the smaller car along with the increased humming of the engine as it worked to pull away from the truck.

On the slower roads, the truck behind them became emboldened. It surged forward a little, just enough for the front end to be right behind the wheel well as it pulled into the lane next to the truck and turned to the right, pushing into the back of Jason's car.

It struck Rocky then. They were trying to be run off the road.

Jason continued to look back and forth from the rearview mirror to his best friend, silently asking what to do. Rocky simply instructed him to keep driving, his mind moving a mile a minute. Finally, the best thing that could've happened, happened. There was a jolt as Jason's car crested a hill, then started to rapidly slow down.

Jason smiled as his car suddenly stalled, before coming to a stop in the middle of the road. Squealing filled the air when the truck behind them slammed on their brakes to keep from smashing into the back of the car. They stopped just enough to gently tap the back of the car before backing up, driving around them and peeling away so fast they ran through a red light and screeched around the corner.

Rocky and Jason quickly climbed out of the car and ran to the back to assess the damage. "I'm sorry, man," Rocky said quickly. "I didn't want you to get wrapped up in this stuff. I'll pay to fix whatever was damaged." He cringed to think of how many hours he would have to spend at the pizza shop to get enough money for that. He'd probably have to start doing deliveries.

"That's alright." Jason's voice was impossibly calm for someone who'd just been chased by a tailgater. "It's the best thing about having a car that's so old." He grinned to Rocky. "I can't tell what's new. As far as I'm concerned, all of this has already been here."

Rocky smiled back.

It felt hollow.

He wished he could be as calm as Jason was.

* * *

Jack was ready with his phone as soon as it rang. "Yeah?" he barked.

"It's him," the voice on the other end replied. "We know where they are."

"Great. Keep following them, but back off a little. Don't want em' to get too spooked just yet." Jack grinned. He leaned back in his seat, casually studying the rings that glimmered on his left hand. From pinkie finger to thumb. A recent purchase. "As for the other part, push forward on it now. We need to make sure we can get as much money as we can."

"You got it, boss."


	18. Restrictions

**Chapter Eighteen**

* * *

They argued about it for a while.

What do to do.

What to say.

How _much _to say. When…the right time was never a thing. The _perfect time _didn't exist. The _perfect moment…_there was a lot to be said about why there were things that had to be said as soon as possible; ripping off a bandage. And there were times that things had to be held back and not spoken about as long as needed.

Rocky felt himself at that crossroads at multiple points of his life. When he worked out the kind of person he wanted to be and the kind of person he was. When he tried to figure out when was the best time to tell his parents the truth and when to keep his mouth shut. It was a crossroads he found himself stuck in on an increasingly daily basis as the "golden child" and the "oldest" because his brothers weren't. He could never express himself or lash our because he had to be the perfect child.

If he were bullied, especially by Darren and Darryl, he had to suck it up because he couldn't go running to his parents to save him. Nor could he use his fists and ninja training to solve the problem. As much as he would like to. It nearly killed him when he had to order Colt and Tum-Tum back inside when Darren was taunting them just before their spontaneous trip to Japan. There were more than enough times where he'd clench his hands into fists, focusing on the pain of his nails into his skin before he was able to calm himself down.

So, when he talked to Colt and Tum-Tum about what happened with him and Jason, they argued. Or, argued as much as Rocky could without raising his voice. He tightened his jaw and his lips, and clenched his hands into fists, but didn't otherwise raise his voice. Colt and Tum-Tum argued with him. They weren't sure if it was a good idea to bring it up to their father, while at the same time wondered how much of it they could keep from him.

"It's one thing for you to act like nothing happened at the ice cream shop," Colt said, arms around his knees as he sat on his brother's floor—one of the few times Rocky let his brothers into his room without being annoyed by their mere presence. He looked to Tum-Tum, who listened quietly, stretched out on his back on the floor, staring at the ceiling, annoyingly spinning a lollipop around in his mouth so that it clacked against his teeth with each twist. "But it's a completely other thing when our friends get involved." He squinted. "You can't possibly think it's a good idea to keep _that _quiet."

"Dad doesn't really like our friends anyway," Tum-Tum mumbled, still spinning his lollipop.

Rocky and Colt exchanged a look with Colt shrugging. "He's got a point." A light laugh escaped his lips. "He thought Brett would turn into some sort of criminal mastermind when he first heard what B can do with a computer."

"That's mostly because people being good at computers makes him nervous," Rocky reminded him. He rested his elbow atop his desk, cheek in his upraised palm. "And because he can't do anything on the computer that he doesn't need someone's help with."

"So…all of mankind then."

The three boys laughed. Silence stretched over them for a long moment. Well, as much as silence there could be with Tum-Tum still annoyingly twirling that lollipop. Rocky sighed in frustration and looked to Colt who looked back at him, before reaching out his foot and kicking Tum-Tum in the side.

"Ow!" Tum-Tum sat up, placing his hands on the floor to keep himself balanced. Finally stopping the sound. "Quit being a jerk!"

"Quit making that noise!"

"You know I have wrestling practice in the morning!" Tum-Tum climbed off the floor and leapt onto Rocky's bed, ignoring the expression of exasperation at the thought of having to make his bed again. He stuck his tongue out at Colt, only hesitating in a way that Rocky was sure his baby brother had just refrained himself from giving Colt the finger lest their mother walk by the room at the wrong time.

Not that it was suspicious by any means that they were all hanging out at once, but she'd grown adept at knowing they were up to something when they didn't fight for more than a few minutes at a time. Maybe it was, that in the back of their minds, that made it so that they argued. Like they couldn't help it.

Or their worries were manifesting in the ways they always did. Rocky being calm, pushing everything down, Colt blowing up like a volcano, and Tum-Tum stuffing his feelings down into the only thing that ever gave him comfort—food of some sort.

"But Jason's okay?" Colt asked, running a hand through his hair. "He didn't…I don't know…freak out or anything?"

"Jason doesn't freak out about anything," Rocky reminded him. "He's always gone with the flow, no matter what. He says he won't go to the police unless we want to." Colt raised his eyebrows. "There's more than enough damage to his car over the years that you couldn't even tell if any of it is new. It's not like insurance is going to bust down his door to try and figure out who tried to run him off the road."

"So, you know a lot about car insurance now?"

Rocky immediately noticed the note of aggression in Colt's voice, but knew it wasn't directed at him. But directed more towards the slowly burgeoning fear that was in all of them. If they couldn't go regular places without being targeted, if even their friends weren't going to be safe, what would make it so that they could move on with their lives? And be normal? And not have to wonder what life would be like without having to look over their shoulders every time they stepped foot outside the house.

For a long time, they had that and now…?

Colt sighed, lowering his gaze from his brother. His jaw tightened at the same time the muscles in his arms did, tightening his grasp around his knees. "I wish just wish we knew what these guys wanted! Then we could stop them and move on with our damn lives." He shook his head and chuckled. "Maybe get these guys to understand that, no matter what, they're going to lose."

"How quickly will these guys be put in prison?" Tum-Tum asked. He rolled onto his stomach and rested his chin in his hands, kicking his legs back and forth. "You think since they're repeat offenders they'll just be sent away? Or do we have to go to trial?"

"We'd probably have to go to trial this time," Rocky said. "If they get caught?"

That caught Colt's and Tum-Tum's attention. "What do you mean _if_?" Tum-Tum mumbled. He made a loud, obnoxious sucking sound as he swallowed his candy flavored saliva. His eyes widened, realization hitting him. "You mean we're _not _going to tell dad?"

"I didn't say that."

"So, what _are_ you saying?"

"He's saying that no matter what we decide, he's going to decide what we do anyway," Colt replied. He shook his head, frowning so intensely that it reminded Rocky of the times that their mother would remind the Douglas's perpetually frowning son that his face would freeze that way. "So, whether or not we want to tell mom and dad, he'll decide if we actually do it and when." He turned his scowl Rocky's way. "You'll just wait for the right time."

"Shut up, Colt," Rocky snapped.

"Make me!"

"When's the right time?" Tum-Tum's innocent and quiet question immediately released the tension in the room, popping like a balloon. Rocky and Colt looked at each other. That was the magic question. When and what to tell. That was the unspoken part of all of it, what would happen if they _did _tell and what would happen if they didn't? The police had worked closer with the boys over the years, but there were still some things they either didn't or couldn't let out to keep the public safe.

But what happened when the 'public' was your friends and family?

The thought came back around to cross Rocky's mind one morning, weeks after the 'incident'—as Jason loved to refer to it, ever downplaying anything that seemed to happen to him until he had no choice but to confront it—when he, his brothers, their dad, and their grandfather were out for a morning run. It was a routine for them, depending on the day, and what other activities were going on. Tum-Tum had wrestling practice in the morning every other day, and when he wasn't at wrestling practice, the boys and their father went on a run.

"Have to keep in shape for the off-season," Sam had said.

Colt eyed his father's growing stomach before asking cheekily, "What _shape _is that, exactly?" He received a light whack on the back of his head and Sam's laugh before an arm was wrapped around his neck and he was pulled into his father's chest. One of the few times where they weren't arguing.

It surprised Rocky how quickly the weeks had passed by, and what had happened in those weeks. Things seemed to go back to normal. As 'normal' was. He, Colt, and Tum-Tum worried about being attacked again, but as the days passed and nothing went on, they were able to focus on school, baseball, their friends. Especially their friends. It was the strangest thing; his mother and father had grown closer to Reed and Renee, his mother especially seemed happier that she had a close friend to talk to, who understood what it was to have rambunctious kids, a full house, and similar backgrounds in a culture that not many people understood.

Along the same vein, Tum-Tum had grown to be really good friends with Patrick and Noah, the three always hanging out with each other when they had the chance. Which was something Rocky wasn't quite sure about. His mother was one thing, he couldn't quite say much to her about their worries, but, if Tum-Tum were playing his cards right, then he certainly did have a lot up his sleeve.

Rocky wasn't quite sure he could do the same. Not that it seemed to stop his own friends any, Emily and Jo had become pretty good friends with Riley and Rhuben—probably because, before then, they only had each other to hang out. Emily had always said she needed to stop hanging around Rocky and Jason so much when they started to do their 'stupid boy stuff'. And Jason and Brett had worked to become friends with them, too. They certainly hung around more often; showing up at the pizza parlor when Rocky and Jason were off shift, hanging out with Emily and Jo after school (when Jo came in from the reservation), around the house.

It was like he couldn't get away from the danger that was slowly being brought into his house. If he were correct about his suspicions. Maybe it was because he and Colt were older that they showed more hesitation, or maybe it was PTSD rearing its ugly head. An old friend they'd thought they'd said goodbye to ages ago. Their therapist had always said it was possible it'd come back at the times they least expected it. Even then, Rocky realized, they hadn't gone to therapy in a long time. Somewhere along the line things seemed to get better and they just stopped.

But as Rocky ran along with his brothers and father, he counted each footstep with each breath he took in and out, pumping his arms as he effortlessly bobbed alongside his father, Colt, and Tum-Tum right alongside him. Every now and then Rocky would glance toward his father, studying the side of his face, wondering what to say, and even if he _should _say anything.

And when was the best time?

Was _then _the best time?

Rocky's eyes darted toward his father once more, taking in the side of his face. His father was still handsome, he could see why many people said Rocky looked exactly like him. But he could see that the time in the police force, rising through the ranks before becoming an FBI agent (and probably along with having kids) had made him grow older than Rocky realized. The stress wasn't doing much for him. There were bags under his eyes, more lines around his eyes than Rocky had noticed before, wrinkles in his forehead, gray hairs that started to pepper throughout his mustache and hair.

Someone who was probably, easily regarded as an easy target when he wasn't in his uniform, wasn't thinking about work, and was just relaxed. Until someone crossed him, until his training from the police force really came out, easily intimidating anyone who managed to get themselves on the receiving end of his glare or disappointed looks.

It still surprised him, at times, to see how fit his father still was. Sure, he spent long hours at the office with Jerry and the rest of the team who'd risen in the ranks with him—so much so that Jerry was a permanent fixture int heir lives when he wasn't so bogged down with things—but those working in the law, especially as active in the field as his dad was, had to stay in shape. The long hours Sam put into his cases, leaving early and returning late, part of that time had to be spent working in the gym.

He practically left his sons in the dust every time they went on a run. Something about that day was different; Sam was making sure to stay even with his sons, not doing much to get ahead or drop behind them though he easily could to keep them going. Rocky didn't say anything until Sam finally indicated they were done, slowing to a stop at the corner of the street.

"Is something wrong, dad?"

Tum-Tum's question made Rocky whip around to look at him. Tum-Tum shrugged back, eyes growing wide at the sudden attention that was placed on him. It was an innocent question, of course, but how could they know what he knew about their suspicions of MedoCal if they didn't bring it up.

"Uh…" Sam wiped a hand over his face. A move to remove the sweat from his brow but also a nervous habit he'd been unable to hide for years. Sam Douglas was someone who could be strong and emotionless when needed, but when it came to his kids, he was unable to act on anything but his fatherly instincts of protecting his kids. "Yeah, there's a lot going on."

"With Jack, right?" Colt got right to the point. Rocky shot him a look that clearly read _Cool it, _and Colt responded with one that said, _We have a right to ask. So I'm going to ask. _"Dad, what do you know that Jack Harding is doing?" Sam pressed his lips together, glancing over his kids' heads. To anyone else, it would've looked like he was thinking of the best path to continue taking his sons running. But to Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum, who had been trained on how to read their surroundings, they recognized their father's patterns easy.

"There's not much I can tell you," Sam hedged.

"Well, we figured that out _ages _ago," Colt said with a roll of his eyes. He lifted his arm and slapped them to his sides, then folded his arms. All in one smooth move that was so perfectly Colt that it may have been his normal stance. A small smile came to Rocky's lips. "You know, when the times we had guns pointed in our faces and we couldn't hear much after that!"

"Jeffrey," Sam warned.

"Colt, shut up," Tum-Tum intoned.

"What? I'm just trying to get some answers that no one, apparently wants to give us. Next thing anyone knows we'll be dead, and all dad can say is 'Oh, we can't share the details'."

Rocky reached out and clamped his hand down on Colt's shoulder, pressing his fingers tightly into his ball and socket joint. He saw the way Colt's jaw clenched that he knew he got the message loud and clear. Sam, however, reached over and pried Rocky's hand off Colt's shoulder, gently moving it down to his side. Rocky looked at his father in surprise.

"No, Sam, he's right," Sam said slowly. Colt smiled a little, though his eyes betrayed his surprise at the praise. It wasn't that he and Sam didn't get along, their relationship had vastly improved since he was young, but the animosity was still there from time to time. "It's really not fair what I can and can't tell you. But you need to believe that I wish things were different. I want you all to listen carefully with this, Michael, come here." Tum-Tum inched closer, standing with his brothers. "If anything happens with this Jack mess, I can only tell you what I can tell you. But I promise I'll be more open and communicative with what's going on."

"But?" Colt asked sullenly.

Rocky nodded quietly. That was the part he was waiting for as well. 'But'…what? They had to tell everything they knew? They had to keep things a secret? They had to move again? Go into the witness protection program? Keep everyone out of the loop? Act like things were normal?

"But…I need you to keep your noses clean," Sam said.

"Dad." Rocky shook his head. He opened his mouth, started to say something. Started to protest. Started to explain.

Sam lifted a hand, immediately cutting Rocky off. Rocky frowned. He pressed his lips together, clenched his hands into fists. Waited as his father took a deep breath and said, "I know things are getting harder. First there was that thing with the ice cream place and now what happened with Jason's car—"

"—You know about that?" Tum-Tum asked.

Rocky and Colt both rolled their eyes when they saw the smirk that crossed Sam's face, unable to be held back. "He does _now_, Tumbelina!" Colt groused. Rocky hung his head, unable to look his father in the eye, knowing he was going to ask why Rocky didn't mention anything, why he didn't say anything. Wondered why he wasn't being 'responsible'.

God, he hated the sour taste that came to his mouth.

Mostly because of his father's potential disappointment, but also because of the truth hitting him in the face. No matter what they tried to keep to themselves, their father was going to find out what was going on. _Maybe that's a good thing, _he thought. _This time we can actually work with the police on this, make sure we know what's going to happen before it does._

"Stop calling me that!" Tum-Tum snapped back.

Rocky sucked in a breath through his nose. He lifted his chin and looked his father in the eye. "If you want us to be honest with you, you need to be honest with us," he said. Rocky felt relief was through him when Sam nodded, "I've always taught you that respect works both ways, I'm not above that." Rocky nodded back, licked his lips and said, "If that's the case…what do you think MedoCal has to do with Jack?"

Sam blinked in surprise. A move that was eerily familiar to Rocky. "MedoCal?"

"I…_we _know you think there's something up with it." Rocky quickly looked to his brothers for back up. "We know there's a connection in there somewhere, anywhere. We know you've probably researched it because you have to keep an eye on any start up companies that come through, especially medicinal and pharmaceutical ones because they can easily be a money laundering front or drug trafficking. What did you find out?"

Sam ran a hand over his mouth once more. He stepped back from his sons and looked them all in the eye. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't concerned about MedoCal," he said slowly. "And that, selfishly, part of me has found becoming friends with Reed a means to an end to find out what's going on with the company. All friendships are made because someone can get something from another person, whether it be an ear to listen or a companion. I think Reed gets that, but he doesn't hold it against me. Maybe I don't deserve it, but it's also the nature of my job."

"As an FBI agent?" Colt snorted.

"No. As your father."

Colt's eyebrows rose, and he lowered his gaze.

"He understands, just like I do, that there isn't anything you'd do to protect his children. And moving here to California was part of that for him. He needed to protect them—"

"—From what?" Rocky head himself ask, eyebrows coming together.

_"It is kind of weird," Emily admitted. She squirmed in her seat. "Actually, there's something else I know…" She bit her lower lip, thinking for a moment before leaning forward, a conspiratory look on her face._

_Jason rolled his eyes. "We're alone here, Em. No one's listening in on us."_

_Rocky looked around Jason's kitchen at the comment. At the immaculate kitchen that his parents seemed to freak out about when there was even a hint of a crumb anywhere. As immaculate as the rest of the house, which proved the point that Jason's parents were never home. If Rocky were being honest, the reason Jason seemed to latch onto him so easily as a friend was because he as lonely._

_Who wouldn't be if they were an only child to parents whose jobs kept them from being home so often that by the age of six their child was self-sufficient. And that was even before Jason had moved to California. The first time Rocky realized Jason was alone was shortly after they'd become friends. Jason had invited him over to his house for a sleepover and thought it was normal to say 'no one' in response when Mrs. Douglass asked who was going to supervise them. Instead, Jason slept over at Rocky's house anytime a sleepover was talked about._

_Rocky still offered Jason to stay the night, or to stay for dinner if he knew his parents were gone for the day, the weekend, or even the week, and Jason continuously refused. He even refused any offers of money if Jason made the comment that there wasn't any food in the house and he'd already run out of the money his parents gave him to last for the week._

_Jason didn't like handouts and was used to his life. However, Jason always joked that his parents had cameras all over the place to make sure he wasn't doing anything wrong. Rocky didn't believe it, though, at the same time, he didn't think there was much merit to it._

_"Anyway, I've heard that part of the reason the Jacksons moved here was because they'd gotten into some sort of trouble where they're from," Emily said. "Not the parents, but I've heard it was mostly Riley and Rhuben, but Patrick and Noah had gotten into some of it as well. Or were starting to, which was what made the dad take their job here. Just to get them away."_

Sam looked away. "I'm not too sure, he didn't say." He cleared his throat. "All I know is…I don't want you hanging around them." Rocky's head jerked back in surprise, Tum-Tum made a choking sound, and Colt, for once as far as Rocky was concerned, was speechless.

"You…you can't do that," Tum-Tum sputtered with the most emotion Rocky had ever seen in his youngest brother's face. And that was concerning the same boy who managed to throw the screeching tantrum of the century when he was only a toddler and had his second snack taken away because he was becoming a bit too pudgy for his age.

"I don't want you to be friends with them—"

"Dad! They're the only ones who I can hang out with."

"What about those idiot friends of yours?" Colt flicked his hair from his face. "Those guys you're always throwing food at every day at lunch?"

Tum-Tum ignored him. "Patrick and Noah are cool, dad. They're not dangerous or anything." He threw his hands to his chest. "_I'm _more dangerous than they are! And their mom and dad aren't making me stop being friends with them."

"Michael, you don't understand—"

"—Because you never let me understand! If anything, they're innocent of this and you're just being a…" he sputtered for a few seconds. "A paranoid jerk!" Tum-Tum turned on his heel and ran back the way they came, racing toward the house.

"Michael!" Sam shouted after him, voice echoing along the neighborhood streets, echoing in the early morning. He heaved an angry sigh, folding his arms. "I better go after him," he murmured. "When he gets like this…I can only imagine how much more shopping your mother's going to have to do."

"Oh, Sam," Mori's voice came from behind the three, from the direction of the road they'd just been heading toward. Rocky's eyes widened when he noticed his grandfather coming toward them, hardly breaking a sweat, running without a care in the world. He slowed to a speed walk as he approached them. There's much more to life you still need to learn. Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light."

"Grandpa?!" Colt cried, eyes popping wide. An incredulous laugh escaped his lips. He spun in a quick circle, expecting to see his grandfather still chugging away behind hem. "How'd you beat us back here?"

"I didn't even see him leave," Rocky remarked.

Mori laughed to himself as he continued down the hill past his son-in-law and grandsons. "'There's always more than meets the eye, boys. Always remember that!" He laughed gaily, moving at a steady pace that had him out of sight in a matter of minutes.

Sam chuckled a humorless chuckle, folding his arms. "I'll never understand that man," he murmured. "But life is never boring when he's around."

Rocky smiled to himself, knowing how true it was.

* * *

"So?" Jason asked later that afternoon, long after school and baseball practice.

"So, what?" Rocky lifted his gaze and mechanically went through the motions of spinning the pizza dough in his hands. Jason rolled his eyes, tilting his head back and extended his arms overhead so that he could watch what he was doing, lest he accidentally drop it on the floor and had to start again.

"Show off," Jason murmured. Rocky grinned. Jason quickly changed the subject. "So, are you going to ask Emily to the dance?"

"What dance?"

"Where've you been, Sammy?" Jason took his eyes off the flying dough to give his best friend a 'duh' look. It took a second for him to realize Rocky, indeed, wasn't kidding. "The Homecoming dance? The same dance that every girl in this school looks forward to as soon as they get into middle school and follow those ridiculous magazine quizzes that tell you how to find a date."

Rocky made a face. He gazed out through the industrial machines that lined the back of the pizza shop and out to the floor. He sighed, shoulders slumping as he watched some of the kids he recognized from school unwrapping something with green foil, titling their heads back, and swallowing whatever was inside with cries of excitement.

_Wonder what that's about, _he thought. He shook his head, bringing his attention back to Jason. "You know girls don't do that, right?"

"And the media lies, but that's not the point I'm trying to make. Damn!" Jason shook his head, dropping his dough to the ground. Jason rolled his eyes when Rocky smirked at him, continuing to roll the dough around, stretching it out without having to look. When he was sure it was at the right size, Rocky threw it onto the counter, creating a small cloud of flour to rise from it.

Tony then hurried over and scooped it up with a long, flat spatula. He shook his head at Rocky, a massive, amused grin on his face as he said, "Love those ninja abilities. So cool. Good to know I have someone to protect this place if something happens. Like that ice cream shop, eh?"

Rocky smiled and nodded. Feeling his face move into the expression before he could stop himself. It only faded when Jason chuckled from next to him. Rocky turned a shot glare to him. "You know, your face is probably going to permanently freeze in that fake smile if you do it too much," he remarked.

"You're probably the only person who realizes it's fake," Rocky murmured before he could stop himself.

Jason shrugged. "Of course, I do. I'm your best friend." He gently punched Rocky on the shoulder. "If I didn't know when you were faking…well…I'm sure you'd have a lot more problems in your life." He laughed to himself. Rocky smiled at his joke and shook his head. Jason poked him in the cheek, making Rocky duck away and shove him hard in the chest. "At least that one wasn't fake, it'd make me start to wonder if you actually were a robot. And don't act like I didn't notice you didn't answer my question."

Rocky tore his gaze away from the restaurant floor once more, wondering why the kids were suddenly laughing at the top of their lungs as they spun a pizza slice in the middle of the table like a spinner. He knew the expression "High on life" but that was ridiculous. Rocky looked blankly back at Jason. He blinked a few times, tried to figure out what it was that Jason was referring to. Finally, he sighed, removing his hat to run a hand through his hair and say, "Sorry, man, I've got a lot on my mind. What were you saying?"

Jason all but knocked on Rocky's head. Which, honestly, Rocky was glad he didn't attempt, lest Jason end up in a complicated knot on the floor with Rocky calmly sitting on his back. He couldn't tell if his nerves were that shot, or he was tired of not having answers. Though he was leaning more towards the latter.

"The dance," Jason said. He took a step back, probably reading the warning in Rocky's eyes. "Are you going to ask Emily to go?"

"I don't know." Rocky frowned. Wondered if he even actually wanted to go to a dance, but a part of him did have a pull to go. He didn't particularly _like _to dance, but being able to act normal and have some fun would probably keep him from being so…So what? "I haven't thought about it." He also hadn't realized that the dance was coming up so quickly. Hadn't realized much of anything with how preoccupied he'd become with Jack Harding.

It was funny how most people his age only had to worry about the homecoming dance while he had to worry about _that _and wondering if and when he was going to be attacked again. Both of which was giving him more than enough pressure that he wished, while standing in the middle of the crossroads, that a car would come and run him over.


	19. MedoCal I

**Chapter Nineteen**

* * *

Colt swung himself out of his seat as the final bell to class rang. He stepped back, making a face when Darryl bumped his seat, nearly knocking him over. Darren chuckled evilly, clapping Darryl on the shoulder as he passed him. He tilted his head back and popped something in his mouth, disappearing around the corner.

"Yeah, that's a good one," Colt called after them. "Bumping my chair. Like I haven't seen that one before!" He folded his arms before immediately dropping them, placing one hand on the strap of his backpack. "You'd think, after all these years you'd come up with some even a little original."

"'We're just getting armed up, pony-boy," Darren replied. Colt swung out to the hallway after them, his eyebrows lifting when he saw they'd stopped and moved to stand in front of him. "You may have that freaky ninja thing going on, but that doesn't mean other people don't know how to fight."

"Maybe not," Colt agreed.

He tried not to think about the ninja tournament but found himself unable to keep the humiliation from creeping up his neck to flush his cheeks. Not just because of how easily he'd been defeated by the ninja in the last round, not because he was sure Rocky let him win (and he truly wanted to get him to prove it) but with the time it took for him to take down his opponents in the first few rounds. It may have looked easy from the outside but, as much as Colt hated to admit it, it took more out of him than he thought they would.

There were other people who were stronger than him, but Darren and Darryl weren't any of those people.

"But at least I know how to do it without hurting myself," Colt replied. He smirked. "That was you I saw icing your groin last week, right? I think you used too much ice for something so small but…I can understand being worried."

"Or maybe it was from too much time to yourselves," Brett spoke up, a lift to his voice with the innuendo that most of them didn't miss. Colt had almost forgotten he was there, he could be that quiet. But Brett was always more of an observer to Colt's leader. And the one to talk him down and hold him back if he were about to do something stupid, which was a lot of the time he almost couldn't do. "When was the last time you spent a weekend with someone other than each other?"

Colt laughed while Darryl and Darren glanced at each other then pointedly took a step away from each other. He folded his arms, waiting as Darren sucked in a few breaths, as if pumping himself up, then looked at the middle Douglas brother, setting his jaw.

"You better watch your fuckin' mouth," Darren continued. He stepped forward, pointing his finger directly into Colt's face. Colt barely flinched. "We're not kids anymore. And one day you're going to piss off the wrong person and you're going to regret it."

Colt pressed his lips together. "Okay." His mouth popped loudly as he spoke. "That was probably the worst threat I've ever heard. And I've heard some pretty bad ones." He patted Darren on the shoulder, only for him to smack his hand away. Colt lifted an eyebrow and responded with a chuckle. "But you're right, we're not kids anymore. And I'm not going to fight you. Not here. And you're not going to either, you're too smart for that."

"Mm." Brett hummed. Pretended to think. "Not by much."

"No one asked you, Poindexter!" Darryl shoved Brett hard on the shoulder, making him stumble into the wall behind him.

Colt's eyes narrowed. He reached up and shoved Darryl's hand off Brett's shoulder, easily twisting it behind his back. "You're lucky that that's all I'm going to do to you. You're annoying, but not _that_ stupid." He looked back and forth between the two. "So, clearly you're not bored of my kicking your asses yet. But I really have to know, what have we done to you, for you to keep wanting to embarrass yourselves."

"You ain't going to be embarrassing us no more anyway." Colt eyed Darren suspiciously. Took in his blonde hair, dark eyes, and stupid, smug smirk that always seemed to be on his face since the day they met. _Years _ago. But something about it, this time, was even worse. Something that made Darren look even more smugly confident than ever before. (Which, honestly, Colt didn't think was possible). "Not with what we've got."

"And what's that?" Brett pretended to list off. "Bad grades. No social lives. No girlfriends. Not shot at a future—"

"—No one's talking to you, faggot," Darryl interrupted, bringing up a hand to cut Brett off.

Colt's eyes narrowed, chest heaving as he tried to stave off the wave of anger that immediately rolled through him. _Stay calm, _he reminded himself. _Stay calm, don't make things worse. _Not like his mouth wasn't already doing that for him. Anything he manage dot keep himself from doing physically always seemed to come in second with the taunts he'd make instead. All until he really had no choice but to release his pent-up aggression.

Those small moments he knew would disappoint not only his grandfather, but his parents. But those moments he couldn't help but let himself protect those that couldn't be protected. He wasn't like Rocky and Tum-Tum where they could let things roll off their backs with a shrug. He had to let things out when he needed to and…well…sometimes, that got him in trouble. And that was alright.

He started to slide his backpack off his shoulder, moved forward to force Darryl back, but stopped when Darren moved back in front of his face. The two glared at each other, years of pent-up aggression and confrontation crackling in the air between them. Instead of mouthing off, instead of swinging at him, instead of doing everything Colt had expected Darren to do, he was surprised when Darren simply smiled, his eyes coming alive with a malicious light. He grinned like a shark smelling blood, started chewing…something in his mouth.

It wasn't gum, Colt could see that much. But something that crunched loudly and left a medicinal smell in the air. Colt grimaced, pulling his head back so that he could wave away the medicinal smell. Darren laughed and backed away from Colt, with Darryl by his side, they disappeared through the crowd.

Colt hummed, shifting his jaw aside. "They were acting even weirder than usual."

"How could you tell?" Brett intoned. He chuckled at his own joke and the two started off down the hallway once more.

Colt's anger faded away the further he moved from the classroom. Another school day had come to an end and, thankfully, he didn't have baseball practice that afternoon. Just a soccer practice and then he was home free to get some ninja training done. He looked up as Melissa, one of his classmates, walked his way, face lighting up when she spotted him.

"Hey Colt," she greeted, a flirty lift to her tone.

"Hey," he replied, mimicking her. "What's up?"

"Not much. You got any plans this weekend?"

"Same old."

"Ninja training?" She guessed. "Baseball?" She stepped closer to him, reaching out to place her hand on his wrist, gently rubbing it. "Stopping some bad guys from doing something dangerous?"

"Nah." Colt shrugged. "I tend to keep saving the world up my sleeve for when I'm bored." He laughed at his own joke.

Melissa laughed. "So, are you going to the dance?"

"I haven't thought about it." It was an honest answer. He never thought too much about school dances, but typically found himself at them later. When he had nothing else to do. At least he could appreciate the music and hang out with his friends while there, drink as much soda and eat as much junk food as he wanted, resuming his diet when the night was over. "Why? Are you going?"

Out the corner of his eye, Colt saw Brett smirk and shake his head.

"I might."

"Yeah…maybe I'll see you later." Colt stepped around her and fell back with the flow of students clamoring to get to their lockers and out of school for the day. "Quit looking at me like that," he said, noticing Brett still shaking his head.

"I'm not looking at you," Brett defended himself. "I'm just _saying_—"

"—Don't _say _it to me, either—"

"—That there are so many girls that still want to date you, no matter how many you've left in a trail behind you. Just seems a bit unfair for the rest of us."

"I don't have a trail behind me." Colt finally looked at Brett, the side of his mouth turning up. "Just a few here and there. And, besides, things just didn't work out. It's not like I do it for fun." He looked to his best friend. "Just be yourself, dude."

"Thanks for that PSA, man." Brett reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "Besides, I've got my own methods of getting a date for the dance."

"Hacking into someone's social media and forcing them?"

Brett laughed, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Not quite, but at least it's something." The two left the school building and started to go their separate ways, Brett heading toward the parking lot and Colt towards the gymnasium. "Uh…where are you going?"

Colt turned so that he was walking backwards, pointed over his shoulder. "Soccer practice."

"Soccer was cancelled."

Colt frowned. A low thumping sound started behind him. He ignored it. "What? Since when?"

"Since this morning."

"Why?"

"Most of the team got sick. Didn't you hear the announcement?"

"No."

Brett smacked himself on the forehead. "If you stuck around for morning announcements every once in a while, you'd know these things." He grinned. The thumping sound increased, growing louder. Colt clenched his teeth, unable to ignore it much longer. Only anchored to the conversation when Brett asked. "Who were you with this time?"

Colt held up his middle finger in response. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Truth be told, he had been hanging out with his grandfather that morning. He got to school, Rocky and Tum-Tum hopped out to meet with their friends before going to homeroom, and Colt made the drive back to the house.

His grandfather didn't seem surprised to see him walking back through the door. He paused, lifted a watering can from the grass and went back to sprinkling arching waves of water onto the plants up front. "You want me to keep this a secret from your parents?" He asked as Colt approached.

"You can if you want," Colt replied, shrugging. "It's not like you can keep much of a secret from mom anyway."

Mori grinned. "Your mother does have a way of getting information out of people."

"Yeah, by being scary." Colt walked closer to his grandfather. He stood beside him, watching as he carefully watered the flowers int eh garden. "How'd you know I was going to come?"

Mori lifted his eyebrows, gazing at his middle grandchild before turning back to the flowers in front of him. He was silent for a moment, slowly moving back and forth as the water continued to rain down. "A ninja always knows the voices of those around him. The unspoken voices. Just like he hears the flowers around him, speaking to him, he hears the voices of those that are closest to them."

"I bet you wish you weren't able to hear it so much," Colt joked. "Especially when mom and dad get into those silent treatments with each other."

"Your mother and father are very similar. They both have a drive to protect each other, their family, everything they love. They may have their disagreements…" Mori bobbed his head. "I may not have understood Jessica's choice in your father many years ago, but she has good judgement. I trusted that in her. Just as a ninja has to trust their instincts." He held the watering can out to Colt, who took it, surprised to realize how heavy it was and how easily his grandfather was carrying it. "My instincts are saying that you boys are very troubled and don't know what to do about Jack Harding."

"Would you?" Colt asked.

"Everyone deserves a second chance—"

"—Grandpa, this guy murdered Jo's family because of money. He wanted to make more money, wanted to dump that…waste on their land because it was the easiest place to dispose of and he could turn his back and make more money!" Colt's words started to bubble out of him, rapidly falling from his mouth so he could hardly keep up. "He was killing people, he was working with the mayor to keep it quiet! And you want us to give him a second chance?"

"The world deserves second chances to understand what went right and wrong," Mori interrupted. He moved to Colt's side, placing his hand atop of Colt's, holding it firmly. His eyes burned through Colt's, probably able to see him from the inside out. Somehow, Mori always knew everything he and his brothers were about to do before they did it.

It always made him wonder how their grandfather knew they needed help at the Indian Reserve, but he was always like that, able to know when the boys needed help when his parents seemed to be more oblivious to it. Or, maybe, Colt realized as he got older, they wanted to ensure their grandfather's relationship with them and took a step back to encourage it.

"The same for people; figure out what's right and wrong," Mori continued, staring directly, meaningfully into Colt's eyes. "It'll be obvious when the time comes."

"But how can you be so sure?" Colt asked softly. He let go of the watering can, allowing Mori to take it and dump the excess over the lawn. "You and Snyder were friends."

"We were friends. We were business partners. I saw a side of that man I never thought I'd see but knew had a potential to come." Mori shook his head. He extended his hand to Colt, who took his arm and helped him back up the steeped slope of the lawn and toward the house. "I gave him a second chance the moment he came to my property. But I listened to his silent voice and knew there was more evil in him than I could ever imagine."

"How'd you learn to do that?" Colt led the way inside. "Listening to their silent voices?"

"Off of meditation, mostly." Mori let out his wheezing laugh. "When I first learned to mediate, I couldn't keep myself from thinking of everything that came to mind. Sooner or later, I could target my thoughts and completely clear my mind, depending on what I wanted to be mindful about. Sooner or later, I realized I could do the same with the voices…the true intentions of those around me." He gestured toward the sink,

Colt grinned, moving to get his grandfather a glass of water and the pills he took every morning. "And that's how you always knew when were up to something. Like when we were going to throw water balloons, or spray you with the hose, and the rest of those pranks."

"No." Mori shook his head. "I knew you were going to do that because your have no walls in your room and your don't realize how loudly you talk." His laughter started off wheezing, which Colt quickly joined in, before becoming hearty, abruptly ending when he started to cough.

"Grandpa!" Heart racing, Colt hurried to his grandfather's side, dropping the glass of water and some pills onto the table so that his hands were free to grasp his grandfather's shoulders. "Are you alright?" Mori continued to cough. He searched his grandfather's face for any pain, heart continuing to ram against his ribcage, tattooing its imprint into the bone. "Grandpa!"

"I'm alright." Mori took in a few breaths. He patted Colt's hands. "It'll take a lot more than a cough to take me down."

"You're right about that."

Colt had seen him do some truly amazing things. Had seen him launch himself off of moving trucks, thrown himself into trees, track down a man who seemed otherwise untraceable, and take down a ninja who was much younger than he and seemed to have him on the verge of death. And that was from the most recent years, there were many stories their grandfather (and parents) had alluded to him experiencing that he'd never mentioned, but Colt knew it'd have to be something spectacular that'd knock him down.

"Anyway, I'll see you later," Brett continued, breaking Colt from his thoughts. "I've got to get home before mom. I need to clean the place before she gets home."

"Do you need any help?"

Colt smiled at Brett's mocking snort. He hated to clean his own room let alone work to clean up anything that his brothers would make a mess of. Then again, Brett was his brother, but in a different way, and he knew he'd do the same for Colt if his father ever walked out on his mother.

"The last time you tried to help me clean, you put a foot through the wall, the hole is still there. I'll take my chances. See you later, dude." Brett lifted a hand and turned away.

Colt waved back, then huffed, whipping around to let whomever it was making that god awful racket know to cut it out, in some not so nice turns. But, at the same time he turned, Colt heard a cry of, "Look out!" before—

_Wham!_

"Oh, God!" Colt brought up his hands to grab his nose, feeling warm, sticky blood trickle down between his fingers and splatter to the ground. His eyes watered with tears, a ringing forming in his head as he tried to meditate the pain away. He'd done it multiple times before, mostly after having to deal with broken bones that couldn't be treated until ambulance arrived, bruises, sprains, and pulled muscles while training.

Their grandfather wasn't very much into medicine that had multiple, and worse, side effects when the connection between the mind and body could heal all wounds. And it certainly wasn't the first time he'd been hit in the face. (He still remembered how hard Rocky and Tum-Tum laughed when their grandfather had accidentally thrown a baseball directly into his nose).

Colt then realized he heard hysterical laughter and felt his temper rise, just it had the day his grandfather injured him. This time, however, the laughter was feminine and didn't sound quiet so apologetic as he heard, "Are you okay?"

"What the hell?" Colt brought his hands from his face, looked at the blood, then leaned his head forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. He lifted his gaze, groaning slightly when he saw Rhuben standing in front of him, holding a soccer ball against her stomach. (It took him a few seconds to realize it was her, not her twin. They looked identical other than their color affinities. It helped he had AP History last that day, the few classes where it was just her in it). The wide smile on her face immediately gave her away. "This is funny to you?"

"The way your head flew back? Yeah," Rhuben replied. She spun the ball in her hands. "Like all those videos on YouTube where those kids get hurt and crumble like Gumby?" She moved closer, eyes shifting over his face. "I'm sorry, mate, I was just getting some practice in."

"I can see that!" Colt snapped. "Didn't you know practice was cancelled?"

"For the blokes, maybe. I'm just waiting for my brothers and sister before we go to dad's office." She lifted a hand off the ball, waving it. "Figured I'd work on my corner kicks a bit. I didn't think the bloody backspin would send it into your face, yeah?"

Colt continued to glare at her. She dropped her hand back to the soccer ball, stepping forward once more. Her eyebrows came together, purple strand of hair falling into her face, which she quickly shook out of her eyes. She gazed at him with concern, making him take a step back, uncomfortable with how closely she was looking at him.

"For real," Rhuben said. She tucked the ball under her arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you in the face." She eyed him as he brought his shirt to his nose, pinching his nostrils shut. "You think it's broken?"

"No, I've got a broken nose before," he said, voice muffled by his shirt. "Feels _much_ different."

Her eyebrows quirked upward, serious. "From ninja?"

"No, from Tum-Tum hitting me in the face with a block when I took food off the tray on his high-chair." Colt shook his head. "Should've known he had a good arm then. I think that's when dad first got the idea of recruiting him for his team." Colt removed his hand from his face and looked at the blood that stained his fingertips. "I'll be fine. I've been hurt worse than this."

Nothing could rival the pain of an entire body's muscles seizing once adrenaline wore off. After the pizza night his dad had treated the entire family to, after ensuring Snyder was taken away in handcuffs, Colt slept soundly. It wasn't until he woke up the next day he realized the toll everything had on him; where he couldn't move a muscle other than to rapidly shake.

_And that was just the beginning of our issues stemming from that, _Colt thought. He eyed Rhuben carefully. _They don't ever seem to go away. _"You think of doing anything else than trying to decapitate innocent people?"

"From what I've heard around here, you're not so innocent." She spun the soccer ball in her hands.

"Back atcha," Colt returned. Rhuben paused, pressing her fingers into the sides of the ball so it stopped spinning. Her eyes flashed, clearly wondering what it was he knew. Admittedly, it wasn't much. A lot of rumors flying around the school of what trouble they could've gotten into to be uprooted to California. "Looks like you need some practice, anyway," Colt mumbled, changing the subject.

"Actually, I was aiming for your head. Get your ego down a bit after your run in with those boofheads." Rhuben looked at him seriously. "I don't know if you've noticed, but blokes like that…they get off on you responding to them like that." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter if you beat em' up, they'll keep coming back. And they can and will always do work if you provoke them enough." She gestured with the soccer ball, backing away from him. "Sorry about your nose, mate. But at least blue is your color, yeah?"

She turned on her heel and went to her backpack, scooping it up before heading toward the parking lot. Colt looked over his shoulder, watching her go, eyebrows coming together when he saw her join up with her siblings.

"What happened to you?"

Colt whirled around to see Rocky and Tum-Tum strolling toward him. The two exchanged amused glances. How many times had they seen Colt boast about how strong he was? And the next thing they knew he was showing up with a black eye?

Tum-Tum noted the blood on his shirt, eyes widening. "Don't tell me you got into another fight."

"No. I got hit in the face with a soccer ball."

"On purpose?"

"Shut up." Colt removed his fingers from his nose, allowing the fabric of his shirt to fall back to his chest. He grimaced when Rocky grabbed onto his chin and tilted his head this way and that, studying the swelling around Colt's nose before dropping his hand back to his side with a mumble of, "Not broken. You'll be okay." Colt couldn't help the biting, "Thanks, mom," in response, making Rocky roll his eyes. Colt looked at the blood, then over at the back of the Jacksons' van as he peeled out from the parking lot. "Let's follow em'," he decided.

"Huh?" Rocky blinked rapidly. "Follow who?"

"The Jacksons."

"Why?"

"Because they're going to MedoCal."

Rocky's face screwed up, still trying to figure out what it was Colt was trying to get at. Even Tum-Tum, who was usually the first one to go along with whatever Colt suggested, appeared to be struggling to understand what was going on.

"So?" Tum-Tum asked bluntly.

Colt sighed, waving his arm so his brothers would follow him to the parking lot. "We need some answers, so we're going to get some answers. And, right now, this is the only way we can do that."

"And what do you expect to do once we get there?" Rocky asked, though he continued to follow along with his brother. Colt smiled to himself, knowing it wouldn't take much for Rocky to join in on the plan. "Walk through the front doors and ask if we can see…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "This isn't a good plan."

"No." Colt stopped. He looked his big brother in the eye. "Say it," he prompted. Rocky licked his lips. "I know what you're thinking." He motioned between himself and Tum-Tum. "_We_ know what you're thinking. Say it out loud. Say that you think Harding's in there somewhere."

"If he's smart he wouldn't be," Rocky said. He paused and started walking once more. Colt smiled to himself, taking that as Rocky's silent way of agreeing to their plan. "But as for everything else…there might be some sort of information in there."

"You know dad doesn't want us there," Tum-Tum protested, but continued to go along with his brothers, moving at a slower pace. He chewed his lower lip as he went. "He doesn't want us around them, so I don't think—"

"—Tum," Colt interrupted. "Why don't you say what you want to say?"

Tum-Tum frowned, eyebrows scrunching as he looked back and forth between his brothers. "They're my friends—"

"—You hardly know them," Colt broke in.

"So? You hardly knew Jo when you wanted to help her!" Colt shifted his gaze toward Rocky, silently asking for help. Rocky looked back and him then at Colt. Shrugged one shoulder, a silent response of 'he has a point'. "But that was because you liked her, right? Well, I like these guys!" He rolled his eyes when Colt snickered quietly. "Not like _that, _you jerk."

"What are you calling _me _a jerk for? You were the one who said their dad's boss was Harding! You heard them talking about it when we went to their house for dinner!"

"I said, 'maybe'. I didn't know for sure. It could be anyone!"

"Anyone working with Harding!"

"You know, I always knew you were crazy."

"Come on, Tum, you're just as suspicious as the rest of us. And if we're going to get any answers, we may as well go now. What other chance do we have? Dad's not telling us anything because…well…we all know why."

Colt stopped as soon as he reached the door to his truck. He was annoyed at having had to drive that morning, watching Rocky grab the safety bar above the window of the passenger seat every time he took a corner. But now that he was their ride, he didn't mind it too much. Colt could force them to go if he wanted to.

It wasn't exactly kidnapping if they were his brothers, was it?

"Rock?"

Colt immediately hated himself for subverting the decision to Rocky. He had to learn how to stop doing that, if Rocky was going to college soon. He was going to be the one to start making decisions for him and Tum-Tum. Having Rocky ultimately decide what they were going to do was a sort of default mode; if things went sour, then he had to deal with it. Rather than Colt having to deal with the possibility that, maybe, he wasn't meant to be the leader of them. As much as Rocky could annoy him by acting their grandpa or their dad, at least he didn't have to suffer any of the consequences.

Rocky thought for a long moment, twisting his mouth to the side, blonde lashes fluttering as they always did when he was deep in thought. At one point, with his numerous all-nighters, Jessica had even thought Rocky needed to get his eyeglass prescription changed, seeing him continuously blink as he tried to make sense of whatever science chapter he was reading.

"Maybe Tum's right," he said slowly. "It might be dangerous—"

"—A medical building is dangerous?"

"If it's just a medical building then you wouldn't need to look so badly." Rocky said, exasperation coming to his voice. He lifted his hat, running a hand through his hair, before jamming it back on. "Maybe dad's right. We keep our heads down and—"

"—You like her, don't you?" Colt interrupted. It was a stab in the dark, but he couldn't quite miss the banner waving in front of his face. Rocky's eyebrows lifted partly in surprise, partly in frustration at having had been interrupted. Rocky never interrupted people, he nearly had a conniption and fell over himself apologizing if he did it on accident. If he ever did it on purpose, then he was incredibly angry. He _hated _to be interrupted. "That's why you don't want to know the truth. You like her."

"Who?"

"Riley."

"'I hardly know her."

Colt snorted. "That's never stopped you before."

Tum-Tum smiled up at Rocky, a smug smile that he couldn't help. The same smile he always got when he watched an interaction between Rocky and Emily when they were young, when they met Miyo, Colt got in on it, too. "He's got a point."

"Shut up." Colt smiled at Rocky's quick and defensive response. There weren't many things that could rattle Rocky, but when he was rattled, sometimes, it could be incredibly fun to watch. Especially when it came to conversation topics he tired his hardest to avoid. It was wrong, in a way, for Colt to bring up anything that had to do with college when his parents were harping on him about something, it often switched the conversation toward Rocky, who nearly melted to the floor with trepidation. "That's not what this is about."

Rocky glared at Tum-Tum when he started to hum a song that sounded suspiciously like the same taunting tune they used to mock him and Emily. They managed to squeeze Miyo's name into the same tune after meeting her, then did the same with Jennifer when they started to go out, amping up their teasing even more when they officially became a couple.

Colt chuckled to himself. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the truck, moving to get into the driver's seat. "I don't care what you do," he finally decided. "But I'm going." He pointed at his brothers. "Just don't tell mom and dad, alright? They're only just forgetting my last grounding, I don't need another one."

"Then stop staying out past curfew," Tum-Tum said, massive amounts of 'duh' oozing from his voice.

Colt sent Tum-Tum the middle finger, ignored Rocky's disappointing glance—that made him look almost like a splitting image of their father—and climbed into the truck, slamming the door shut with conviction. He started up the truck, ready to back out, stopping only when he heard the doors to the truck open and close as his brothers got inside. Rocky slumped in the passenger seat, dropping his backpack into the footwell while Tum-Tum clambered into the back.

"You really had me worried," Colt remarked, quickly backing up. "I thought you were going to make me go on my own this time."

* * *

"Here," Rocky said twenty minutes later, head bent over his cell phone, staring at the GPS app on his phone. "Right here. Take a right." He frowned when Colt took a left, driving the back way around the block. "I said take a right."

"And be obvious by pulling up front? I don't think so."

Colt jumped as there was a sudden burst of white light and the sound of a camera shuttering. He glared into the rearview mirror when he saw Tum-Tum lean forward and then take a picture in front of Rocky's face, making him cry out as well.

"What the hell are you doing?" Colt demanded, pulling into a parking spot and rubbing at his eyes.

"Getting evidence," Tum-Tum replied. "So that when mom and dad ask what we did today and this eventually gets out, I have proof that I was an innocent bystander."

"Shut up," Colt and Rocky groaned in unison.

Colt turned off the truck and the three boys climbed out. Almost immediately Rocky held up his arm, lifting a finger in the air. He tilted his head. "What?" Colt subconsciously lowered his voice. Rocky shushed him. It was then Colt heard a faint rumble, the sound of voices. The three boys exchanged glances before hurrying down the sidewalk to follow it.

It grew louder the closer they got, until they stepped around the corner of MedoCal, eyes growing wide at the crowd of protesters in front of the building. At first, it looked like ordinary people protesting, waving their banners and signs around.

"Look!" Tum-Tum pointed.

Colt looked closer and gasped quietly, seeing Jo, Charlie, and Selina among the crowd, other members of the Tawanka tribe along with them. Colt cursed under his breath. "The protest, I forgot we told Jo we'd be there."

"Actually _you _told her _you'd _be there," Tum-Tum replied. Colt glared at him. "This is just what we need! More ways for us to get in even more trouble with mom and dad."

Colt turned to Rocky. "Why'd we bring him again?"

"'Cause we'd get in trouble if we didn't," Rocky replied. With that, he brought his fingers up to his lips and whistled shrilly. Colt and Tum-Tum cried out, jerking their heads back away from their brothers.

"Rocky!"

"Warn us when you do that next time!"

Rocky ignored them, waited a second, then did the same thing. Colt lifted his gaze and watched as Jo heard the whistle that time. She looked around, trying to find the source of the noise, then spotted the three. Colt waved a hand, beckoning her over. She nodded back, turned to face the security guards that stood at the front of the building, waved her sign for a few more seconds, then smoothly blended back with the crowd to make her way to them.

A teen boy about her age followed along with her. Colt's nose wrinkled, he exchanged a look with Rocky before nodding towards the guy. "Hey," he greeted them. "What's going on?"

"Protest," Jo replied. "Trying to get these guys to understand what sort of man Jack Harding is."

"You mean Harding's in there?" All at once, they all turned toward the MedoCal building, looking up at the large towering skyscraper that seemed to fall toward them as the seconds passed, an optical illusion against the backdrop of the blue sky dotted with white clouds.

"Probably not," the boy said. "If he were smart, he'd have a bunch of his own lacky's take the fall for him." He shook his head. "Guys like Harding call the shots from as far away from possible."

Tum-Tum tilted his head and pointed at him. "Um. Who are you?"

"Oh, this is Cedar Cloud," Jo quickly introduced. "His family's new to the reservation. Cloud, these are the guys; Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum."

"Yeah, nice to meet you," Colt said quickly. He licked his lips, glancing toward the crowd of protesters again. "If Harding's not in there…then why are you protesting?"

"Because Harding's got a stake in the company," Jo explained. "It was announced this morning." She shook her head in disgust. "Rich men…always able to pay off their pasts while we're the ones who are suffering every day for it."

"We're making sure everyone knows what they've done to us and our people," Cloud agreed. He gestured with his sign. "A peaceful protest."

"They already think of us as little things they can step on and not fight back," Jo said. "But when we do become "aggressive" use our voices to bring attention to things, that's when they become scared of what we can do. That's when they use any means necessary to try and shut us down." She shook her head. "Didn't work last time, won't work this time."

"You know what may help even further?" Colt asked. He angled his head toward the building. "If we go in and see what's going on. Maybe find some things out that people aren't telling us."

Jo's eyebrows rose before she exchanged a glance with Cloud, who ran a hand through his long black hair. "You want to go inside?" Her nose wrinkled before her face became calm and she looked at the three boys with an expression Colt couldn't quite place. She lifted her hands, moving them closer to them then frowned, crossing her arms.

"There's some darkness in you," she murmured. "Suspicion."

Rocky sighed, turning his head away as if ashamed. He blinked for a few seconds before admitting in a low voice, "We…they think—"

"—You think it, too!" Tum=Tum protested.

Rocky ignored him and continued. "The Jacksons' dad may have something to do with what's going on and we want to see for ourselves."

"They said something about coming to see him after school," Jo agreed with a shrug. She continued to eye her friends. "We talked about it at lunch today." She shook her head. "But...I don't get that energy from them. Not completely."

"What do you mean?" Colt asked, jumping at her words. To anyone that didn't know Jo, her 'feelings' and 'senses' were something that made people look at her crazy. Colt knew her well enough to take them all seriously. He ignored it once, a bad feeling she said about him and the soccer game he was going to play, and he ended up twisting his knee so badly he was out for at least a month.

"I'm not sure," she said, lamely. "I'd have to…focus on it more. But…" she lifted her gaze toward MedoCal once more. "If you need to go, then go. We need action. We need change. We need _anything _that'll make them take us seriously. Any information we can get…let's get it."

"We'll cover for you," Cloud agreed. He and Jo nodded to each other before going back around the corner and heading toward the Tawanka tribe, shouting at the tops of their lungs once more.

"Cover us for what?" Tum-Tum's voice practically squealed, it broke so badly at his indignation.

Colt grabbed his little brother's shoulders, dragging him back around the corner. "To get inside, stupid." He pressed his back against the wall, waiting for Rocky to give them the signal to start running. He watched the expression on Rocky's face turn stern, one that would've typically scared Colt if it weren't for the fact that Colt knew it was the part of himself he 'turned on' to be Rocky, the ninja.

Rocky slowly lifted his hand as the chanting started up once again, this time louder than before. Then he waved them forward, sprinting around the corner of the building when there was a sudden commotion. Colt and Tum-Tum followed after him, pumping their arms and legs to keep up as Rocky charged toward the front of the building, sprinting past the guards that were suddenly preoccupied by a fight breaking out amongst protesters in the crowd.

"Alright, we got inside," Colt said as soon as the blast of air conditioning hit them. "Now what?"

Rocky looked around, pressing his hands to his hips as he thought about it. Tum-Tum bounced from foot to foot as the seconds passed. Colt felt his own impatience rise within him, making him wiggle his fingers anxiously. It usually didn't take Rocky long to come up with something to do, but this was different. Normally, they didn't go straight in the front of a building, didn't go straight into the line of fire as openly as they were this time.

Usually, they spent more time sneaking around and hiding in the shadows.

Being under the bright fluorescents was new, and something Colt didn't like so much.

"_C'mon, _Rock!"

"I'm _thinking_!"

"May I help you boys?"

The three turned around at the same time, gaping at the young man who stood before them, looking back and forth over all their faces, holding a clipboard beneath his arm. Colt's eyes narrowed on the nametag clipped to his belt then looked up when Rocky stepped forward, quickly swiping his hat off his head and smiling.

"Yes, we're here to see someone." Rocky's eyes shifted as he tried to think of a name to get them where they needed to go. Colt could practically read his mind; he couldn't say 'Reed Jackson' or it'd be to obvious what they were trying to do. And saying 'Harding' probably would've been worse. "They're uh, kind of new here, so I don't think many people would know them yet. But, uh, he said to drop by whenever we could—"

"Oh!" The young man nodded. "Yeah, I know exactly what you're talking about." He examined the clipboard. "You're here for the focus group!" Tum-Tum made a low 'huh' sound. Colt reached over and pinched him on the elbow, keeping him from spilling the beans. "Right, we're waiting for you three. Follow me." He turned on his heel and started across the lobby, motioning for the boys to follow him.

Colt shoved Rocky on the arm, grinning at his older brother as Rocky snickered quietly to himself. "We're sorry we're late," Rocky added. "We hit some traffic on the way in."

"And that protest," Colt added.

"Yes, well, that'll be handled shortly," the young man said. He took his badge off his waistband and held it to a lock that bleeped and audibly opened before they went through another door, walking down a sterile-like hallways filled with offices with people bent over their desks. "It's nothing to be worried about."

Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum peered into each office as they went, glancing at each other and gave a slight shake of their head as they did so. Nothing yet. Colt licked his lips, looking down at the badge that continued to wiggle with the man's each step. Colt elbowed Rocky and nodded toward it.

Rocky nodded back then sped up, keeping pace with the man. "Uh, what are they protesting?"

The young man then went on to explain, falling into a tangent of the "hardworking people of MedoCal", giving Colt enough time to reach out and carefully slide the badge off the loop of the man's pants and press it firmly into his hand. He wiggled it beside his face like a prize, grinned at his brothers, then backed up a few steps.

"So, you'll be going in here…where's my badge?" the young man started to pat his pockets, after stopping at a closed door. "Ugh, must've left it at the last door, just wait here, please." He turned and speed-walked in the opposite direction, coat billowing out as he did so.

"Come on, we don't have much time."

Colt backtracked until he saw the stairwell through a window on a door and the three burst into it, running up a flight of stairs. They burst out into the end of the empty hallway and started to search the rooms in side. Nothing that was a good hint for what they needed to find.

"This place is too big!" Tum-Tum declared. "How will we know what we're looking for?"

"We'll know when we know," Colt replied, though his voice was very uncertain. He chewed his lower lip, following Rocky as he continued toward another branch in the hallway, one end leading toward a door with a lock that only a badge would open, the other open and available to let them in. "Which way?"

"Uhh…" Rocky looked back and forth.

"Hey! You!"

_Looks like the choice was made for us. _

"Are you authorized to be over here without an escort?"

They turned at the sound of the shout, slowing when they saw guards running their way. Tum-Tum immediately fell into a fighting stance. Colt smiled to himself before doing the same. Colt looked over at Rocky, who's lips twitched.

"Looks like we'll get some sort of practice, today," Colt remarked.

Rocky nodded, then his smile faded. The three waited until the guards got close before springing into action. Tum-Tum went for the guard's legs first, driving all his weight forward with his head striking the man's gut. The guard's breath came out in a loud _pew _while Tum-Tum wrapped his arms around the back of the guard's legs, forcing his knees to bend, the drive of his weight knocking him backwards to the ground.

"Oof!"

Tum-Tum immediately released his grasp on the man's legs, using his leverage to flip up so that he was sitting on the guard's chest. With an impressive feat of throwing weight around, Tum-Tum grabbed the guard's arm and leg, flipping him onto his stomach before pulling the guard's arms behind his back with one hand, using the other to punch the guard in the face. The guard groaned and immediately dropped.

Colt ducked as the guard in front of him swung a baton toward his head. Once. Twice. Three times. Colt jerked his head back each time before the last swing, that was hard enough to knock the guard off balance. "Aiya!" Leaning back on his right foot, Colt swung up his left to catch the guard in the stomach. His mid-section wasn't as fleshy as Colt anticipated, almost ricocheting off the guard. But he at least anticipated the wraparound and spun, jumping up to use his other leg to kick the guard in the neck.

He coughed, falling to the ground while Colt regained his fighting stance, waiting for him to come back up.

With shouting kiai's Rocky blocked every hit that came toward him with the sides of his hands. He moved closer and away from the guard as he tried to hit him with everything at his disposal. The guard then started to punch toward him, of which Rocky easily evaded as well. Finally, he knocked the guard onto his back, doing a lightning quick judo sweep. Rocky then flipped onto the guard's lap, grabbed his belt, and with a flick of his wrist, removed it from the guard's waist.

Rocky wrapped it around the guard's wrists, flipped him over, then looped it back around one of his legs before buckling it tight. He backed away, grinning at his own handiwork.

"C'mon!" Tum-Tum shouted, taking off down the hallway with his brothers right behind him.


	20. MedoCal II

**Chapter Twenty**

* * *

As Rocky ran along, he expected to hear alarm after alarm sound, his heart ready to burst at the sudden explosion of sound. But it never came. No, the only sound that followed them was their rapid footsteps that rumbled the floor as they ran.

Every now and then he and his brothers would pass by a room that'd allow them to peer in, those inside giving a quick and only slightly curious glance back towards the three brothers before turning back to their work. Rocky finally slowed to a fast walk, swinging his arms as he went, realizing that running was only going to bring attention toward them if they didn't act like it was normal, they were there.

They were supposed to be part of that focus group, so running around wouldn't look too good. It was what their father had drilled into their heads when they were young. "Act like you own the place, be confident, and no one will question you."

Rocky nodded slowly, moving to a slower walk, nearly making Colt and Tum-Tum crash straight into his back. Colt twisted away, a quick move he did a lot when playing soccer keeping their opposing players on their toes and the people in the stands entertained. He quickly brought out his hands to keep from crashing face-first into the wall form his sudden change in directory.

"What'd you stop for?" Tum-Tum demanded.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Colt added, whirling around and pressing his back against the wall. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath—or reign a burst of his temper in, Rocky wasn't sure.

Nevertheless, Rocky glanced at his brothers with an air of nonchalance though his heart and mind were running a mile a minute. "If we keep running around like this, they'll think we're up to something."

"We _are _up to something," Tum-Tum reminded him. He reached out and smacked Colt in the stomach with the back of his hand. "All thanks to Colt."

"Hey, you didn't have to come! Rocky and I could've handled this on our own."

"And give up any blackmail potential?"

"You can't blackmail someone if you're a willing participant."

"Mom's not going to see it that way."

"Focus!" Rocky snapped. He continued at his leisurely place through the hallway with Colt and Tum-Tum falling in with him. He directed them into the nearest elevator, quickly taking note that there weren't any cameras in the corners. _Doesn't meant we're not being watched, _he reminded himself, pressing the button to take them to another floor. "Chances are, they've got security for different parts of the building. Or else the place would be crawling with it by now. But if we're going to find anything, we need to hurry."

"What are we looking for again?" Tum-Tum asked.

"We'll know it when we see it," Rocky repeated. "A file room. Security tapes. Accounting. Anything we can use to at least place Harding's name with MedoCal."

"And what do you expect we do when we get caught?" Colt asked. "Because we _are _going to get caught." He folded his arms, leaning against the wall of the elevator. "It's just a matter of time."

"The same thing we always do."

Colt snorted in amusement, the corners of his mouth turning up. "You mean act like we don't know what we're doing?" He waved his hands back and forth. "Sorry, Mr. Man, we got lost on our way to your top-secret file room when we're actually supposed to be part of this focus group that you didn't ID us for." His smile stretched into a bona fide grin. "If you ask me, we're not the ones who're going to get into trouble."

Rocky grinned back, knocking him on the arm. Tum-Tum smiled and shook his head. He looked back just as the elevator doors opened and yelped, leaping backwards when he noticed someone standing on the other sides of the doors. Rocky and Colt immediately fell into fighting stances, flanking Tum-Tum's sides.

Reed looked back at them with an amused expression. His eyes swept over them before he slipped his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts. Rocky and Colt exchanged a glance when Reed grinned and shook his head. "I reckon you lot are the ones who're causing such a ruckus around here, yeah?" He remarked. The three boys exchanged another glance. Reed waved his hand, turning on his heel indicating for the boys to follow him.

Slowly lowering his arms, Rocky hesitated. It was shared by Colt and Tum-Tum, who waited for Rocky's first move before they decided to do anything else. Reed chuckled, coming to a stop to look at them. "I promise I'm not bloody kidnapping you. I've got enough kids of my own without taking on three more blokes into my brood. I'd go completely broke."

The three boys inched their way to follow Reed out of the elevator and down the hallway. Reed's flipflops smacking against his feet with each step was the only sound that accompanied them. Which was strange, Rocky reasoned. What scientist wore a short sleeve button down, cargos, and flip-flops to work? Especially when the building was already so cold. Goosebumps appeared on Rocky's arms as he continued behind the older man.

"So what made you lot want to come to MedoCal?" Reed finally asked, stopping only to swipe his badge against a card reader. "It's not the best place for a field trip. Especially when you've got all those after-school activities you lot do."

"We, uh…" Colt paused. The one who was almost never at a loss for words couldn't come up with an easy excuse. Then Rocky noticed the twinkle in his eye and made a face. Confused. Colt surreptitiously held up a hand behind his back, silently reassuring them. "We're doing a project for school. And figured since MedoCal had sponsored the ninja tournament, that it'd be a good place to start."

"Project huh? What's the topic?"

"The Stock Market Crash."

Colt said it with such a straight face that it took everything in Rocky and Tum-Tum not to burst out laughing. Reed threw his head back and laugh. "Well, I hope this is on the more positive side of the conversation. Was there anything you wanted to ask me specifically?"

"Yeah, what does MedoCal do exactly?" Rocky broke in.

Reed's eyebrows twitched. "I thought that was obvious, mate. It's a Pharmaceutical company that specializes in the creation of said pharmaceuticals in an all-natural way to ensure the health and wellness of those that are taking them." He laughed to himself, an almost baritone pitch to it compared to his higher speaking voice. "Reckon I sound like a bloody pamphlet."

"But how can you be so sure it's safe for everyone that's taking it?" Rocky broke in.

Stopping at an office door, Reed gave him a wry smile over his shoulder as he said, "Focus groups," before holding the door open for the boys. Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum followed him into the office, looking around in awe. Much like the rest of the building, Reed's office was very modern looking, with a floor to ceiling glass window on one side of the room that overlooked the sidewalk and street below, everything else was almost sterile with white everything.

Rocky scanned the walls of the office, taking in the awards and the degrees that sat in frames, then the pictures of his family on the desk. All bright and smiling faces. Mostly taken at the beach or what appeared to be professional photos taken. Nothing so out of the ordinary, his father's office looked the same on the very few times they'd gone to visit FBI headquarters.

"I'll admit I'm a little skeptical of the creations of some of the products MedoCal is projecting to put out in the next few years, but of the herbal supplements I created, I can assure you it's 100% natural." Reed turned when the door to the office opened once more to allow the Jacksons to troop into the room.

"What are you doing here?" Patrick asked, blinking when he saw the boys. But grinned nevertheless. He seemed to always have a smile on his face, Rocky noted, since meeting them.

"They're not working on a project, apparently," Reed replied.

Riley lifted an eyebrow, looking toward Rocky and Colt. "A project?" she repeated slowly.

"On the Stock Market Crash."

"Right," Rhuben said shortly.

Reed's gaze then shifted to Colt's face, to his kids, then back to Colt. He managed a laugh that was partially amused, partially surprised. "Your face is starting to bruise, mate. Looks like you might have a broken nose. What happened?" His gaze shifted towards Riley who folded her arms and said, "It wasn't me this time," then to Rhuben who said, "It was an accident."

Rocky looked at Colt out the corner of his eye. What was that supposed to mean?

"You _accidentally _broke his nose?"

"I got hit with a soccer ball," Colt agreed. He smiled a little. "It was a pretty good kick, actually. I haven't seen a ball bend like that in a while."

"Yeah, and it _bent _your nose," Tum-Tum cracked. Patrick and Noah laughed. Sydney walked over to his father's desk and dropped into the seat, moving the mouse and rapidly started to click and type.

"Shut up, Tum," Colt groused.

"Mr. Jackson," Rocky started.

"Call me Reed, please."

"Okay. Reed." Rocky wasn't quite sure he liked that. It felt a bit too familiar to him. Especially if this was someone, he wasn't quite sure he could completely trust. So far, the man had been nothing but nice and welcoming. And, truthfully, probably knew the boys were lying about their project, but still wanted to ask their questions anyway. "Do you know anything about the owner of the business?"

"The owner?" Reed's eyes widened.

"Yes. MedoCal was a quick business to be created. Especially considering how quickly it became a sponsor to a ninja tournament that's so big. It had to have been planned for months at least if it were to sponsor the entire event. Things like that take a while…" he looked out the window of the office, noticing the protesting crowd in the front started to ripple and wave. Nervous.

Reed started to respond then stopped when the phone on his desk rang. Rocky frowned, irritation rocking his gut. Just when they were starting to get some answers…He sighed quietly and walked closer to the window, taking note of the reflections that dispersed the closer he moved. He saw Colt's and Tum-Tum's guarded expressions, saw Reed's features pinch into one of frustration as he listened to the other end of the phone, saw Patrick and Noah slumped in the set up chairs, looking at their phones, saw Riley was staring into space—no watching her father—chin resting in her hand, saw Rhuben was watching him closely, and…saw the reflection of Sydney at the computer.

More importantly, saw the reflection of the computer screen.

He squinted, pretending to watch the bustling crowd outside, strained to see what was being done on the computer. A lot of different diagrams and blueprints that Sydney effortlessly weeded through and added. A 3d image of what looked to be MedoCal appeared on screen with another screen holding important looking files that he ran through, document after document appearing on screen.

"Yes sir," Reed said, slowly leaning over the desk to return his phone. "Yes, sir. I'll be right there. Yes. Yes I know. Hoo roo." Rocky turned, watching as the Jacksons' shoulders slumped, already determining what was going to happen. "Sorry, peeps, but there's an emergency meeting I have to go to." He smiled over at the boys. "Seems like there's been a break-in. I've got to smooth things over." He nodded towards Riley who huffed. "Take them home, please. I'll meet you at there."

Sydney frowned, hunching his shoulders. "But dad, you said I could help you with your program today," he said. He twisted his mouth to the side. "_And _help you figure out the—"

"—I can use your big brain any day, Little Man." Reed patted his youngest son on the shoulder, prompting him out of the chair. "But right now, I need you to go home."

"Hardass bugging you already?" Rocky almost jumped when Noah suddenly spoke, his voice quieter and calmer than the rest of his siblings. Also due to the mention of the man they were looking for. "You only get that annoyed when the boofhead is on your back."

"I also get that annoyed when my children don't listen to me." Reed was no longer smiling. He pointed toward the door, a final warning. The Jacksons all grumbled, grabbing their backpacks as they did as they were told, leaving the office quietly.

Rocky pressed his lips together. He recognized the movements in his himself; the resignation of the situation, hope diminishing within seconds. How many times had he, growing up, waited impatiently for his father to get home from work and wanted to tell him about his day, only to be brushed aside? How many times had he and his brothers been excited to spend time with their dad only to have work come up and pull him away? So much so that Rocky grew used to it quickly grew used to his father immediately going into his home office the moment he arrived home, missing school events, trips, and, family outings all because "something had come up" or he had "an important phone call to make" or he was "just too busy".

"We're sorry to have bothered you," Colt said. He started to back toward the door. Rocky took his lead and crossed the room to the door. "We'll leave you alone. But thanks for answering some of our questions." He knocked Rocky on the back of the arm, jerking his head. "If there's anything else we can think of, we'll let you know."

"Well, I haven't been able to answer a lot of your questions yet," Reed said calmly. He picked up a pen and pad of paper from his desk. "This meeting won't take long. You can hang out here and I can take you back home later."

"We drove," Tum-Tum said. "So, we're just going to go." He continued backing away until he jumped, letting out another yelp, this time louder than the last time. This time, however, when he whirled around, his eyes widened in surprise. "Dad?"

Rocky gulped, seeing his father standing behind Tum-Tum, clamping his hand down on his shoulder, tightened. He lowered his chin, hoping his gaze wouldn't lock with his father's when it swept over him. Didn't have to see it, but felt it. Could feel his father's anger for him within the single gaze. Rocky started to suck in a breath but suddenly found himself unable to. His heart thudded so hard he felt sick, pain growing in the front of his chest. He clenched his hands into fists, unclenched them, then clenched them once more. Over and over. Tried to get feeling back into his fingertips that'd suddenly gone numb. A line of sweat appeared on his forehead, a low ringing in his ears.

He sucked in a short breath, let it out, then tried again. His chest seemed to constrict even further with each of his breaths, the tingling and numbness in his fingers continuing to increase as the seconds passed.

"W-What are you doing here?" Colt asked.

"That doesn't matter," Sam said gruffly. "Let's just go." He turned back to Reed with a glare. "I already told my sons that I don't want them hanging around with your kids. I didn't want to have to say the same to you."

"Excuse me?" Reed blinked, curling his hand around the edge of his desk. Rocky saw his knuckles turn white among the pressure he put on the wood.

"You heard me," Sam insisted.

Reed frowned, taking a step back. His eyebrows pinched together. For a moment, he was quiet, working to figure out how to respond. Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum stayed silent, smart enough not to want to come up against Sam's anger. Even Rocky could see Colt struggled to keep quiet, but continued to hold his lips together tightly. Finally, Reed took a calm breath and said, "Look, Sam, I get that you're protective of your sons after everything you lot have been through. Believe me, if anyone gets it, it's me. But there's no need to isolate—"

"—I'm just trying to protect my family," Sam insisted.

"From mine, you mean?" Reed's eyebrows rose. He shook his head. "We're not a threat to you, Sam." He held his hands up then slid them into his pockets, as if trying to prove a point. If anything, it simply angered Sam even more.

"You're not?" Sam then stepped towards Reed. "I know our wives are friends, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to protect my family from anything I think I need to protect them from." Reed thought for a moment, almost grimacing. He started to ask, "You looked into—" Sam cut him off. "Yes, I looked into you. About everything. I make it a habit to look into anyone who comes around my family."

"What!?" Tum-Tum snapped. He wrenched his shoulder out of his father's grasp and glared up at him. It was the angriest Rocky remembered seeing his younger brother look at his father.

"Is that part of your job or abject paranoia?" Reed droned with a half-smile. That seemed to have set Sam off even more as he muttered something under his breath that finally wiped the smile from Reed's face. The low thrumming in his ears made it difficult for Rocky to tell what it was. "Right. Mate, you should know that everything that's happened, that made us leave, it's not something that we've brought here with us. It's impossible. We left _because _of it. Just to make sure we could protect _our_ family. It's not like we have the fucking plague, mate."

Rocky noticed his father's face darken as soon as the curse came from Reed's mouth. Not that Sam was completely sterile when it came to cursing, Rocky had heard his father throw out the 'c', 'f', and 's' words multiple times when he was extremely stressed during one of his cases. The most recent he could think of was when dealing with Snyder. But when it came to others throwing it around like candy, Sam could never understand why.

"It makes you sound unintelligent if all you can do is revert to cursing to get your point across," Sam always said.

"Just keep your kids away from mine. They're a bad influence—"

"—Ha!"

Sam's eyebrows accusingly. "Skipping out o their obligations and outright defying me? Sounds like something you'd be used to."

Reed's eyes flashed. He tipped his head toward the door. "If you'd excuse me, there's a meeting I have to get to. And just so you know, your boys were the ones who came here trying to ask me things about MedoCal. I didn't ask them to come here. If they defied you over anything, over this…then maybe you have to think about why they may want to."

Rocky didn't hear what Sam had to say after that.

The roaring in his ears was too loud.

So much so that Rocky had no idea when or how he got home. All he could focus on was the ringing in his ears, his sweating palms, and the excruciating pain in his chest as he worked to breathe. Next thing he knew, he was sitting at his desk, working to focus on his homework for that night. He had to have sat passively through his father's tirade against them when they left MedoCal. His father wouldn't have left them without some sort of punishment, not after telling them in no uncertain terms he didn't want them to be friends with the Jacksons.

Then, somehow, he knew exactly where they were…?

It made no sense.

He was an FBI Director, but he'd never been one to actively track his children. They'd always had a sort of free reign with everything…

_Then again, this is something he probably hadn't seen coming, _Rocky thought, rubbing his forehead as he tried to make sense of the words in front of him. It was going to be a tough day in school if he didn't focus. _Any of these guys coming back. Would he react the same way if it were Medusa or Koga? Or Snyder? _Rocky shook his head. If it were Snyder, they'd be on lockdown for sure.

Then what was it about Harding, and the Jacksons, and MedoCal that was ticking him off so badly?

"Rocky…"

And what was it going to mean if he was right about all of his suspicions? What did he really need to protect them from? Did they have any connection to what Emily had been telling him?

"Rocky. Rock!"

Rocky growled, placing his face in his hands. He scrubbed at his face, pushing everything aside. Struggled to focus on everything he did and didn't have control over. "Go away," he mumbled.

"Rock, it's important." Colt grabbed Rocky's shoulder and turned his chair around. Rocky opened his mouth to protest then closed it again when he saw how worried Colt looked. Colt didn't worry about much, he brushed a lot of things off his shoulders. Even for someone who could get so angry over losing baseball game, it was impressive to see Colt shrug and say, "I'll find it later," even when something incredibly important went missing.

"What?" Rocky curled his hands into fists. Felt them start to shake. "What is it?"

"Jo's been arrested."


	21. Parental Discretion Is Advised

**Chapter Twenty-One**

* * *

Jessica sighed as she furiously rubbed a sponge over the cheese stuck to the plate in her hand. How many times did she have to tell the boys not to leave their dishes in their rooms? Especially when they were continuously "too busy" to clean it as they kept telling her.

She paused, giving herself the chance to wipe sweat off her brow. It also gave her the chance to hear her sons arguing over the TV as they where to do every now and then. What they wanted to watch, how loud the volume was, how long they were going to watch what they wanted. She could just about guarantee what each one wanted to watch; Tum-Tum wanted to watch a kid's show while Rocky and Colt wanted to watch some sort of sports game. And even though they tried to gang up on Tum-Tum, it never usually worked.

As sensitive as Tum-Tum could be, he could also be stubborn when he wanted to. And he usually wanted to when Rocky and Colt were trying to get the best of them. She listened hard for their voices and was mildly surprised to hear the TV droning quietly. No added commentary, no grumbling arguments. No loud laughter of triumph when Colt managed to come out on top—literally, as he'd probably sit on top of Tum-Tum to get his way.

Jessica smiled to herself at the reverse image—of Tum-Tum using his newfound wrestling moves to knock his older brothers to the floor and get the best of them—and lowered her hands to the soapy water. Shook her head.

Wondered what really was going to keep her family together. It was strange having her sons acting so lethargic, but not so strange if it came after having spent a day in baseball, basketball, basketball, soccer, or ninja training. That was the kind of lethargic that she enjoyed seeing, knowing they put their all into things they enjoyed. The kind of lethargic she saw in her boys that night was that of defeat.

Anyone would be upset if they found out their friend was arrested. But for something as simple as protesting? Jessica had been mildly surprised when she received the call from Sam that he was on his way home from MedoCal and was going to stop at the local jail to bail Jo out, wondered how much they had on their credit cards.

Jessica blinked in surprise before quickly rattling off the number listening to Sam's explanation. They were protesting peacefully before the security became too aggressive, pushing the crowd, riling them up. Chaos broke out and the Tawankan tribe was arrested left and right, hands forced behind their backs and handcuffs painfully locked on.

She could only imagine how scary it was.

Only the thought of her sons being inside the building and not out with them was enough to keep her from fully panicking. Though her heart really did go out to Jo and her family. It'd been a shock to her when Colt first brought her by the house, she could tell from the wide smile on his face at introducing their friend that he was smitten with her, even if he hadn't figured it out yet. And she'd been such a great friend to them since then and vice-versa, it was no wonder they'd be quick to help her family.

They'd gone straight to their rooms when they returned home, heads hung low and shoulders slumped. They didn't say much when she hurried to give them a hug, simply returned the gesture with a kiss on the cheek, then slipped into their rooms. Continued to stay silent throughout dinner before slipping into the living room afterwards.

Even her husband, who was usually short after a hard day of work, was straight up silent when he arrived at home. Hardly even looked at her when she knocked on the doorframe to his office later to say it was time for dinner.

_How many times had you wished you could have a nice, peaceful, quiet dinner? _The irony wasn't lost on her, making her smile a little. The smile faded and Jessica placed the dishes into the sink and turned to her husband, who sat at the kitchen table, buried behind the never-ending-newspaper that he was always reading.

"Sam," Jessica said firmly. "We need to talk."

"Uh oh." The newspaper wiggled before folding at the top, revealing Sam's face. He managed a small smile. "Am I in trouble?" He lifted a hand and pointed to her. "Wait, are you telling me about an illegitimate child you didn't mention you had before?" Jessica folded her arms, looking at her husband with a lifted eyebrow. "I'm kidding, Jess."

"Do you really think now is a good time to make jokes?"

"I don't know what's a good time for _anything_ anymore," Sam said. He collapsed back against his seat and ran a hand over his face. "This about the boys?"

"Who else would I be talking about?" Jessica gave her husband a pointed look. "We act like nothing's going on but…there's too much that we can't ignore anymore. The ice cream shop, Jason almost being run off the road, Jo being arrested? What else can happen?"

"It's not like I'm not trying to do something to help them," Sam said, his face darkening. "To figure things out with Harding. I'm using as much man power as I can give to figure it out. But there's other things going on in the city." Jessica let out a breath through her nose. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" She asked, startled at the sudden tone to his voice. Even more startled to find how irritated she was at him being so upset with her. If anyone deserved to be upset, it was her.

"Like I'm not doing enough! What more do you want me to do? Do you want me to take on the guy by myself? Beat him to a pulp? Demand to know what he's doing? Threaten him with my gun?" Sam reached to his side and unclipped the holster against his hip and slapped the weapon onto the table.

Jessica jumped at the sudden sound of metal hitting wood and watched her husband warily. He tilted his head the other way, an expression of 'are you kidding me?' coming to his face. She looked at the gun and turned away. Everyone knew how she felt about weapons in the house, had confiscated the boys' slingshots, nunchucks, and throwing stars her father had given the boys as they moved further along in their ninja training.

It wasn't just because they were weapons, but because she was worried about how they would use those weapons if they felt they needed to use their ninja abilities to attack. Not just for self-defense. She had the message burned through her head since she was young. Remembered how her mother and father both reminded her that violence was never the answer, but that she needed to know how to defend herself if needed. And if that meant there were weapons she needed to use, then use them then. But never, in any circumstances, use weapons when you don't have to.

A difficult way to live when your job and the path through the police force meant having to use any force necessary to take down any threat coming their way.

_Well, you did marry into this life, _Jessica reminded herself. Words she had to say as the years went by, since Rocky was born and a big case took Sam away for his first few weeks of life, shortly after Colt was burn and another case made Sam go overseas, and since then the amount of time that found Sam buried under work in his office when he was supposed to be spending a leisurely day a home after a hard day of work.

"No, of course not," Jessica finally said with a shake of her head. She eased herself down into the seat next to her husband, grasping his hand. "I don't need you to be in as much trouble as the boys are."

"I'm always going to be in as much trouble as the boys are." Sam gave a wry smile. "So long as they're alive we're going to be in as much trouble as them. They can get in trouble just crossing the street. You know if they manage to make it through college, we're not going to get through unscathed."

Jessica smiled.

"What can I do to help?

His eyebrows rose. "What? What do you mean?"

"With Harding. What can I do to help?" She bristled, seeing her husband slowly start to shake his head. "Don't do that. I want to help you guys. There must be something I can do. I may not be a part of the police force or anything, but these are my children and I'm not going to sit back and watch as you all drive yourselves crazy with this."

Sam opened his mouth to respond then stop. He leaned back in his seat, bringing a hand up to rest over his mouth. He twisted his mouth to the side, pensiveness coming through despite hiding half his face from her. Though she wouldn't have to see his face to know what he was thinking. She thought the same thing.

How helpless they were to help their children. Before it had been small things, stories from their summers with their grandfather. But it was no longer summer, they were getting older, and their small hi-jinks were starting to threaten their lives and livelihoods.

"We already said we're not moving," Sam reminded her.

"And I still agree with that. We're not moving. Not when it's Rocky's senior year." Jessica crossed her legs at the knee, gently bobbing her foot up and down. "And then it'll be Colt's. We can't uproot them now. And…" she shrugged. "That didn't seem to work the last few times we tried."

"No, definitely not." Sam laughed quietly. "You'd think when we first saw Rocky use his ninja training to stop a bully when he was, what, four, that we would've figured out the sort of trouble these guys would bring us." He shook his head. "But Harding…"

Jessica pressed her lips together. Hesitated. Asked, "Do you know for sure it's him?" She remembered what happened the last time they'd had the same conversation.

_"Their lives were upturned the second Harding was released from prison! I should've known he would do something to get back at them!"_

_"We don't know it was him," Jessica pointed out._

_"Bullshit! Of course, we do!"_

_"No, Sam, we don't! And you running around accusing people isn't going to help anyone. It's not going to help the boys. We don't know how to help them. This is bigger than anything we've ever had to worry about. We haven't had any of them come back. This have been peaceful here."_

_"They're never peaceful here, Jessica! It's LA!"_

_"So what do you expect us to do?"_

_"I expect you not to coddle them."_

_"Coddle them?! I don't coddle them."_

_"You treat them like they're going to break at any slight inconvenience, Jess."_

_"I'm their mother!"_

_"And I'm their father, and you don't see me acting like every little thing is going to tear them down! Tum-Tum can hardly do anything without having to run to you for help. Don't look at me like that, you know it's true. You treat him like he's still a baby, and you hover over Rocky and Colt the second they're out of your sight!"_

_"It's better than the way you treat them! You act like they're little soldiers, where, if they don't fall in line and follow everything you do, they failed you."_

_"I don't do that."_

_"Yes, you do! With the way you holler at them on the baseball field—"_

_"—That's baseball, this is their lives!"_

_"I know that! They're my sons, too! And don't you dare act like you care about them more than me. Don't you dare act like I'm the one that's failed this. Failed us."_

_"Us? What the hell does that mean?"_

_"You know exactly what that means."_

Sam hesitated.

Jessica groaned, pinching at the bridge of her nose. "Is this another one of those 'I'd tell you but I'd have to kill you' things?" Sam continued to stay silent. "I understand that part of your job, but I really hate—"

"—We don't know," Sam interrupted. He shook his head, squeezing his wife's hand before dropping it once more. "I shouldn't be telling you this, I shouldn't even be thinking about it. But we don't know. We've been watching him and, so far, there's nothing that's linked him to MedoCal or anything else that's been going on." Jessica pouted. "Believe me, Jess, I'm as frustrated as you are. I've got all my best me on this but…they're telling me it's a personal vendetta, that my emotions are too invested."

"Too invested? It's our children!"

"I know. They're saying they may give me leave if I don't calm down while at work."

"If you don't…" Jessica repeated. She trailed off. Had an idea of what he meant. She hadn't seen Jerry around in a little while, and if she knew Jerry as well as she knew her husband—which was very possible—he probably found he couldn't handle much of Sam's misguided temper. "Okay, what are our options now?" Sam pursed his lips. "Other than waiting? I swear, Sam, if you tell me I have to wait, I'm going to punch you."

"Get in line."

"What?"

Sam cleared his throat, sat up straight, dropped his hands between his knees. He looked his wife in the eye. "How they're saying they may give me leave of work? It may as well be a done deal, Jess. I got into an argument with my boss and…" he spread his hands, shrugging.

"And you wonder where Colt gets his temper?"

"If I remember correctly, that's form your side of the family."

"Ha!"

"Have you seen your temper?"

"How would you know? I never get angry. I just let you do it for me." Jessica gently shook her husband's knee. "And reign you in when I need to."

"Is that what you meant when you said I was 'failing us'?"

She couldn't miss the bitter edge that came to his tone and instantly felt regret. But why should she apologize for saying something in the heat of the moment when he said some equally cruel things to her for the same reasons? Nevertheless, Jessica didn't respond. They both knew it wasn't what she meant and she didn't want to say the words out loud, in case they became real.

"I feel like I'm failing them, though."

"You're trying to protect them. It's not easy." Jessica shook her head. "But Sam, cutting them off from their friends?" Sam snorted. Jessica gave him a pointed look. "Honey, I'm being serious. If they listened to you every time you didn't want them around certain people, then Rocky and Colt wouldn't be as close with Jason and Brett. Remember what you said about them?" Sam at least had the grace to blush. "You thought Jason was a free-loader and that Brett was weird for spending more time on the computer than with people. And they're not dangerous, right?"

"Right. But you _know _what's gone on with the Jacksons," Sam said. "And you know I'm right. They're—"

"—If you say they're dangerous—"

"—You'll hit me?"

The two looked at each other and chuckled. Jessica shook her head and leaned back in her seat. She couldn't help but laugh. What else could they do? _Why don't they give you manuals for things like this? They give you parenting books and as many websites as you can imagine on how to raise a child, but they never tell you what to do when some of the worst people humankind has to offer tries to hurt them._

The two sat in silence, listening to the TV continue to blare from the living room. She could only imagine what Sam had told them when he found them at MedoCal. "You need to focus on yourselves. Don't keep putting your nose into police business."

She knew there was pushback, but the boys always knew when to fall in line and when to keep going with their gut. Now wasn't the time to go with their gut.

A strange sound caught her attention and she looked over to see Sam leant back in his seat, arms folded, eyes closed, snoring quietly. Jessica stood and leaned over her husband, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He could be really forceful, and appeared to be unable to find humor in anything, but what'd attracted her to him was his big heart. A heart that continued to grow each day with his love for his sons.

She'd hoped the conversation would've changed to that she could've told him she'd been doing some digging of her own. And, as it was, she might've found it interesting what she discovered while at work. That one of the most expensive houses in the city had been bought up almost the minute it went on sale. And in cash. There weren't many people she knew who had the money to do so, but a multi-billionaire tycoon who just arrived back in Los Angeles?

Maybe he did.


	22. What More Do You Need?

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

* * *

"You got any fours?"

"Go Fish."

Rocky put down his hand of cards after picking up one from the pile in front of him, passing the end of his turn. Jason, Emily, Colt, and Brett sat around him, all holding onto cards as they sat in the crowded hallways, leaning against the lockers, pulling their legs and cards out of the way when someone would come by.

"Shouldn't she be here by now?" Brett asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. He twisted his mouth to the side, asked for a pair of threes from Emily, took the cards, then passed his turn onto Jason. He picked up his phone and after a few swipes of his thumb and an increase of inputs that Rocky could never understand—and he had a good sense of understanding computers—Brett was, somehow, in the school's portal that tracked attendance. "Says she's here today, so I guess they didn't keep her in jail for too long."

"I still can't believe she got arrested," Emily murmured, shaking her head. She placed her cards on the floor beside her. "They were protesting peacefully, and the security guards arrested them." She looked to Rocky and Colt. "It's like when you guys first met her and they were all being beaten up by the police then."

Colt shook his head. "That wasn't the police, that was Harding's goons trying to intimidate them into not saying anything about the toxic waste they were dumping." He shrugged. "It wasn't until later we found out that the police were getting bribed by Harding to overlook some things."

_Dad had a field day with that one, _Rocky thought. He didn't remember much of what had happened after the trial had ended and Harding was taken away in handcuffs. His father made sure to keep the boys shielded from any of that news. Jo told them things here and there but…if clearly wasn't enough if the Tawanka Tribe was being targeted again. Whatever Jack Harding had gone through in prison wasn't enough to keep him from doing it all again if he was able to start up his businesses as soon as he was released.

As far as Rocky knew, with the speed that MedoCal came up, Jack already had certain things planned for when he got released from prison. Harding had everything worked out the second his toxic waste dumping had been revealed to the public. And, if that were the case, then MedoCal may not have been the only business he had. Let alone, it may not have been his actual plan. Rebuilding an empire with a pharmaceutical company? No, that couldn't be it. It would have to take a good amount of time and promotion for it to have even become more than just a name.

Rocky frowned, folding his arms, mind swirling with question after question. Slowly moving towards something he could solve. The truth staring him right int eh face. He blinked, sitting up straight. MedoCal wasn't his big plan. There was something else he was doing. MedoCal was the front for something. Had to be.

_But, does that mean everyone who works for MedoCal is in on it? _He thought, chewing his lower lip. _Just like the police had been with Jack? The Mayor…?_

"Well, we have to do _something," _Emily insisted.

"What are you going to do?" Jason snorted, looking over his cards. "Nag them to death? Corner them and bombard them with interview questions until they have no choice but to tell you?" He cried out when Emily grabbed the fringe of his hair, pulled his head forward, and smacked it back against the lockers. "Ow!"

"Leave her alone," Rocky said warily. "She's just trying to help."

"Thank you." Emily stuck her tongue out at Jason, who glared back at her, rubbing the lump on the back of his head. Colt and Brett exchanged snickers and knowing glances that Rocky ignored, though he couldn't help but roll his eyes. "So, what do you think, Rocky?"

"Why are you asking, Rocky?" Colt demanded, though his tone and the knowing smirk on his face proved he wasn't as upset about the question as he would've wanted the others to think he was. Not by a long shot. "Why aren't you asking me? He's not going to be here soon, I'm going to have to be the one to figure things out."

"Because we all know with you in charge everything will crash and burn," Jo remarked, strolling up to the group. She dropped her hands from the strap of her satchel and waved tiredly to her friends, who all sprang to their feet at once. "Hey, guys."

Emily gave Jo a tight hug. "Are you okay?" She stepped back so Colt could have his turn. She tucked her hair behind her ears, looking her up and down. "What happened?"

"Yeah, one minute everything looked fine and the next there was a riot," Colt agreed, folding his arms, moving to stand protectively beside her.

Rocky felt himself smile a little. Part of him wished that he and Jo had worked out, because they'd always been such good friends and always were respectful and protective of each other. But the big brother part of him wished they'd worked out so he could tease them as much as he was teased about Emily.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Nothing that I haven't already gotten used to," she said with a shake of her head. "We're the ones who are trying to protect our land and the Earth and everyone who lives here and we're the ones who are deemed to be causing a riot." A half smile came to her lips. "We're all fine. My parents got away and Cloud was released at the same time as me so…" She shrugged. "It wasn't that bad."

"But are you sure you're okay?" Jason asked. "I mean, you're tough and you've got the…" he waved his hands in the air. "The warrior ancestors and animal spirits to protect you and all that, but jail is jail." He grinned. "I feel sorry for the guy who decided to try and take you down."

Jo laughed good naturedly. Then she sighed, her smile fading. She was silent for a moment. "I don't know what it is they're doing in MedoCal, but it has to be something they don't want the public to know about. Their security team came by real fast to break up our protest. It couldn't be too hard to put Harding's name to it."

"Not to mention how quickly they came after us," Colt agreed.

Jason made a face. "Well, Jeff, you were the one who decided to break into the building and snoop around. And smack down some of the security who, rightfully, were chasing after you." He pointed to Jo. "Now, I think she has a reason to be worried about this guy. But the rest of you?" He pointed to Rocky and Colt. "I think you guys are just paranoid."

"Paranoid or Pragmatic?" Brett asked quickly. His freckled cheeks flushed as all eyes turned his way. "I mean, there's a lot of reasons as to why they're probably right about their suspicions." He paused. "Apart from the fact that they don't have any _actual _proof."

"Paranoid," Jason said firmly. "I didn't stutter. Things around here have been quiet for forever, and there's been some stolen cars, robberies, and things like that that you've taken down." He counted on his fingers. "But I don't quite think anyone's stupid enough to come back to the same city that they had such power in power to do it all again."

Rocky was about to respond, but stopped when he head his name being called from the hallway. He leaned over and saw Amanda Masters walking their way, pushing her glasses up her nose. Rocky gave her a polite smile. Amanda had been their friend since she moved into their neighborhood and helped them with the Mega Mountain Mission—which is what the media dubbed it after really coming to know their name as the '3 Ninjas'—everything would've gone even more pear shaped if she hadn't helped them out.

And she'd even done some ninja training with them, for a short while. But it soon became obvious she was more suited to her interest in technology and gadgets, quickly falling into that crowd at school and found her way leading the science and computer clubs with ease and passion. She still lived in the neighborhood and while the boys didn't talk to her as much as they used to, they were always happy to see her.

"Sorry…" her eyes shifted over everyone's faces. "Did I interrupt something."

"We were just having a debate," Brett said dryly. He pulled at the collar of his sweater vest. "Is it paranoid or pragmatic to try and prove a theory when there's little to indicate whether or not the small amount of evidence they have is the truth."

Amanda thought for a moment, tilting her head. "What sort of proof are we talking about?" She asked. "Because you can figure out formulas and problems with even a tiny piece of proof." She looked Rocky and Colt in the eye. "Are you guys in trouble again?"

There was a slight pause before Rocky and Colt said, "No," while Jason, Brett, Emily, and Jo all said, "Yes."

A wry smile came to Amanda's lips. She shook her head, blonde hair shifting around her face in waves. "That was convincing."

"What did you need, Amanda?" Colt asked, sounding exasperated. Amanda looked at him and he quickly shifted his tone to be a bit more pleasant. Rocky wasn't sure if Amanda still had a crush on Colt, but there was something to be said for how easily he could wrap girls around his finger when he wanted to. "You were coming here to ask Rocky for something?"

"Oh, right!" Amana blinked and turned back to the eldest Douglas brother. "Ms. Lourd is looking for you. Something about having an appointment?"

For a moment, Rocky had no idea what she was talking about. Then heat crept up his neck, toward his cheeks when he remembered that he had set up an appointment with her to talk about his college choices. More specifically, to talk about the ones that were the better choices for him.

"Oh. Right." He cleared his throat and looked at his friends. "I'll see you guys later." He picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "I'm glad everything's alright, Jo," he added.

"Hey, wait up," Emily called after him. She grabbed Jason's arm and started to drag him after Rocky. "We're going that way, too."

"We are?" Jason asked.

Rocky waited patiently for them to catch up, flashed the rest of his friends a short wave, and headed up the hallway toward Ms. Lourd's office. He'd been putting off meeting with her for so long, especially with SATs coming up. His scores would have to be sent to specific schools along with his application and the sooner he figured out where he wanted to apply the better. But, the sooner he figured out where he had to apply, the sooner he had to figure out whether or not it'd be to UCLA like his father wanted…or anywhere else.

Anywhere else at all.

"Look, Sammy, I'm sorry I've been riding you on this," Jason apologized as they went. "I just…I guess I don't get it."

"Get what?" Rocky asked, barely paying attention to what Jason was saying. Could hardly focus on more than the topic of Harding and what was going on with MedoCal and what he was going to do about school.

_And they said senior year was supposed to be easy, _Rocky thought.

"Get why you want to be anything but normal," Jason pointed out. "Ever since I met you, I knew you as Sam. The guy who gets good grades, and is a baseball star, and cares about other people's feelings and situations, and is probably one of the best friends I've ever had. But then I meet 'Rocky'," he uses air quotes around the word. "And it's like you're an entirely different person."

Emily punched Jason on the arm. She shook her head at Rocky. "Don't listen to him. He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Have you seen him lately? You're all so paranoid. Dude." Jason grabbed Rocky's shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm just saying I'm worried about you. I've seen you relaxed and I've seen you completely freaking out and this…this is different."

Rocky's hands started to tingle, starting from the fingertips before making its way up to his palms. He cleared his throat, eyebrows coming together. A roaring came to his ears. He tried to focus on Jason's words as they continued toward the office.

"My parents not being around so much, that's stressful, but you're starting to act like nothing is reaching you other than this Harding stuff. You didn't even remember that the Homecoming dance was coming up and there's posters for that crap everywhere."

"Just because you can't get a date doesn't mean the rest of us don't have more important things to worry about," Emily said. She took in a deep breath, exchanging a meaningful glance with Rocky. "If you haven't been in the middle of something like this, then you wouldn't really get it."

Jason scowled, stopping on a dime. "I'm so sorry I'm not part of your stupid trauma club," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "That you let continue to run your life more than you let your dad do."

Rocky frowned. He and Jason had fought before, many times before. They were like brothers in that aspect. They could be at each other's throats one minute and laughing hysterically over stupid jokes the next. Jason always had a means of helping Rocky loosen up as easily as Rocky could keep Jason serious, the biggest basis of their friendship since having met years before. But when they had to be honest each other…Jason had never thrown such a low blow his way.

Especially one that hit so directly.

"But once you come to your senses, please let me know." Jason turned and walked away.

Rocky sighed, watching him go. He thought about calling after him, then changed his mind. Or maybe it was the truth that was rooting him in place. If not the tingling that continued to spread through his body, from his fingertips to his palms, and then starting at his toes. He wiggled them in his shoes, hoping to get feeling back in them.

"He's wrong, you know," Emily said gently.

"About which part? Being normal? Because he's right about that."

"Huh?"

Rocky faced Emily completely, looking her in the eye. It struck him then, how much time had passed since everything with Snyder went down. Back then, he'd only just gotten the name Rocky and was still figuring out how to live up to the potential of that name. Emily, on the other hand, took to it like a duck to water. How much she honestly loved it other than liking him, he wasn't quite sure. But she was the quickest one to call him 'Rocky' routinely.

Even the first night of the new names, he, Colt, and Tum-Tum had to take a few hours to get over their years long habit of calling each other Sam, Jeff, and Mike rather than Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum. But the second Emily heard the name, she only referred to him as Rocky. At the time it was cool, it meant she understood and was willing to go with the flow of what went on around her. If he knew it meant Emily would be taken in as collateral—even for a half hour at most—for Snyder to get a head start, Rocky would've kept her as far from it as possible.

So when he met Jason and, on a whim, introduced himself as Sam, he felt some sort of relief at not having to let him know of that other part of his life that caused a sort of ego with the attention and strife between his father and grandfather with his mother in the middle. And it worked. He was normal for a part of her life.

Normal now was keeping up with his social media accounts, going to parties, hanging out with his friends, playing baseball, playing basketball, and going on dates to dances—though he wasn't a dancer at all. Senior year was supposed to be the year where he figured everything out and had a blast running the rest of the school.

And here he was, wondering what he was looking into and how much it may or may not affect him. When what he should've been thinking about was anything else.

"I should be normal," Rocky said. "Not 'Rocky from the 3 Ninjas'. Not having everyone know me before I can introduce myself. I want people to like me for me."

"I like you," Emily said softly.

"I know." But her tone behind her words, he wasn't quite sure. Felt a little nervous about, really. It was times like these that he wondered if she should take things with Emily to the place she wanted them to go. But couldn't quite sure if it was something he wanted or if it was expected of them. "But would anyone else?"

Emily's eyebrows rose in surprise. "What's that supposed to mean? Rocky, everyone here likes you. You're nice, you're sweet, you're funny. You can knock Darren and Darryl down a peg without having to hit them though everyone here would like to do that. You can be friends with anyone. Your sense of judgement is great." She paused. "So if you're worried about this whole Harding thing, you're probably right."

"I know, but…" There was still something he wasn't quite sure about.

"But nothing. You, Rocky Douglas, are one of the greatest people anyone could know. And you always try to help people. If something's going on, you're going to find out and you're going to help everyone."

"And if I'm wrong?"

"Look at you track record, Rocky. You haven't been wrong yet. I'd bet money on you." Emily reached out and squeezed his hand. "I'll see you in class, okay?" Rocky nodded and Emily dropped his hand before starting off down the hallway.

Rocky watched her go, pressed his lips together, then shook his head. He went into the guidance counselor's office and dropped into the chair Ms. Lourd had set up for those that would come to work with her. Ms. Lourd smiled at him, shuffling some pages together.

"Hello, Samuel." She greeted him. "Give me a moment while I get everything set up. It looks like we're both running a little late."

"That's alright." Rocky leaned forward to let his backpack slide ff his arm to the ground. He glanced at the stack of papers in front of him. He couldn't help it, his eyes just drifted over to the sheet. And in the brief second he saw it, he couldn't help but notice the words _Jackson, petty-theft, mischief, _and _truancy._ He sat upright when the pages were swept from his view and settled into a filing cabinet.

He flashed a charming smile, the one he couldn't help but let show whenever any parent or adult of authority was presented in front of him. It always worked. And, at least, the tingling in his fingers and toes started to ebb a little.

"Now, we're here to talk about your college applications, right?" Ms. Lourd asked. Rocky nodded. "Have you come up with any that you're definitely going to apply to? Any safety schools? I think we were talking about UCLA early decision last time we met."

"Yeah…" Rocky sucked in a deep breath. That had been part of the plan his parents had set up. He'd apply early decision to UCLA and take as many classes as he could that'd put him on the career path toward law school. His grades certainly supported it and while senior year was supposed to be a coasting year, he still had to work hard to keep his grades up so that it looked even better for applications.

_"You can't slip at the end, colleges want to see that you're committed to finishing strong, not goofing off just because you can."_

"That didn't sound very convincing," Ms. Lourd said with a small smile. She looked at Rocky closely. "Why did you decide to come meet with me today?"

Rocky cleared his throat twice. "Well, I was thinking of some other schools I might be interested in," he said. He cleared his throat again, rubbed at the back of his neck. His chest suddenly felt tight. "Some other programs."

"What major do you think you want to do?"

"Well, eventually I'm going to go into criminal law—"

"—No, Samuel, I mean what do _you _want to major in?" Ms. Lourd sat up straight and looked him in the eye. "What do you think you want to do? What job do you think you'd want? Not what you've bene told that you should do. What do _you _really want to do?"

Rocky's eyebrows rose at the questions. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been asked what he wanted to do. What he wanted on a pizza. What he wanted for dinner. What movie he wanted to watch. Whether or not he really did want to take his brothers to whatever sporting events or appointments they had just because their parents couldn't attend.

But what was he good at?

What else could he do other than be a big brother and show off his ninja skills every once in a while?

"I guess…well, I've always been a little interested in psychology," Rocky said slowly. "You know, getting to understand why people act the way they do. What makes it so that people act a certain way around some people but differently around others. What makes people the way they are."

"You know, that's what I have my degree in."

"Really?"

"Yes. And it's one of the more fulfilling careers you can have. If you've able to let other people do the same to you. To look at you as you look at them. But even then, the most important thing if that you need to be able to look at yourself and see some pleasant and unpleasant things you may not know about yourself."

Rocky took in a deep breath, let it out, then took in another shorter one. The tingling spread to his arm sand legs. He bounced his knees up and down. "Really?" Hearing that he repeated the word, he flashed another smile. "Sorry, I guess I never really thought of it that way before."

"And it really is a good major to have, though you have to be careful on jobs with that degree," Ms. Lourd continued. Her eyes lit up. "There's a whole lot of things it can be applied to. You can even still go into criminal law with it. Just maybe a different department; and there are criminal psychology degrees, but you'd need to go to graduate school for that."

_More school? _He didn't even know for sure if he wanted to go to school in the first place.

"But I've been watching you, Samuel and you have the means of doing whatever you set your mind to. You're very well respected among your peers and you care very much about other people before yourself. Which, I'm sure, is a blessing and a curse." The smile Rocky flashed that time as genuine. "And you tend to keep your thoughts to yourself until you feel the need to say them later, which makes you very observant, but can also make it difficult for you to tell people what you really want."

Rocky swallowed, relief washing over him. "I guess that's pretty true."

"Do you _really _want to go to UCLA?"

"No," he said slowly. "Not really. I want to go to Washington State. I want to…" he took in a few more sharp breaths. "I want to get away." The image of his father glaring at him in disapproval suddenly filled his head. He felt hot. "Well, want to be where people wouldn't know me."

"That's understandable." Ms. Lourd reached into his folder and pulled out the brochure for UCLA then went into another filing cabinet and pulled out a brochure. This time for Washington State. "Why don't you look over these a little more closely and I can arrange another time we can talk. But, Samuel, I have to warn you, if you don't choose a school soon, you're not going to meet the deadlines to put in an application."

"I know. Thank you."

Ms. Lourd nodded and turned to her computer to set up another appointment.

Rocky swallowed hard, wiping sweat from his forehead. He looked over both brochures, over the list the two of them had come up with and opened and closed his mouth. At a loss for words. He probably couldn't speak anyway. The image of his disappointed father reigned in his brain and he couldn't breathe.

UCLA vs. Washington State.

And he was still no closer to the answer than he was before.

* * *

After school, Colt strolled into Downtown Auto, the auto shop he'd worked at since turning sixteen. He'd complained about not having any spending money when Rocky had started at the pizza shop, and had heard too many times that he had to wait until he turned the age to get a job and do so as well. Now that he had a job of his own, Tum-Tum was the one complaining about not having any extra money to spend.

Even though he continuously spent all his money on candy and stupid toys and gimmicks he didn't need. Like that fidget spinner he was always playing with.

Colt lifted his chin to greet Duke, his boss in the small garage. Duke was an older, greasy man, rough around the edges, but was a good boss and let Colt shine where he knew he could. But taught Colt everything he needed to know and more.

Duke was wiping his hands off on a dirty towel when Colt came beneath the garage door. He took one look at Colt and asked, "What the fuck happened to your nose?"

"Some girl hit me in the face with a soccer ball," he replied, clocking in with an app on his cell phone. He quickly went to a locker on the far side of the garage and took off his flannel, leaving his white wife beater that was on underneath.

"On purpose?" Duke chucked.

"No, it was an accident. She bent the ball into my face." Colt chuckled to himself, a small smile coming to his face. "It was kind of impressive, really."

"Was it that little Indian girl?" Duke grinned. Colt moved up to his side. "What's her name?" He started to snap. "Jo?"

"No. Jo was the one who shot me with an arrow on purpose. To scare me." He walked around the truck that sat in the middle of the garage, tilting his head as he studied it. "What are we doing today?" He pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Just some body work. Their fender needs to be fixed and they asked that things inside be cleaned up as well." He opened the door and tilted his head. "So, hop on in, princess. Give her a good polish."

Colt nodded but stared at the truck. Normally he would've used a good curse word to get back at Duke for calling him princess, but something else caught his attention. Something somewhere, some distant memory reminded him that he'd seen it before. But where. Why did it look so familiar? Nevertheless, he took the cleaning supplies from Duke and slid into the driver's seat. Picking up the cleaning solution, he sprayed it over the steering wheel and started to scrub all the while Duke hammered away at the front of the car, working to knock off the old fender.

Colt made quick work of cleaning the inside and was moving to scrape out the cup holders—it was a good place to find any change people forgot—when a metallic package caught his eye. Frowning, he leaned over and picked it up. He held it straight in his palm, twisting it back and forth. It didn't have any special markings on it, but he recognized it.

Recognized it being handed out at the Ninja Tournament, recognized it from a few kids at school that had them, recognized it as what Darren and Darryl had shoved into their mouths when taunting him. Remembered hearing they'd gotten sick later.

Curiously, Colt ripped open the package and dumped them into his hand. All the pieces inside had strange numbers and letters marked onto them. Colt whipped out his phone, took a picture, and sent it to Brett, then immediately afterwards called him. "Hey, B, you think you can do me a favor?" He asked as soon as Brett answered.

"No." Brett sighed. "I can't change your grades for you again. We almost got caught last time."

"Yeah, I already learned that lesson," Colt said quickly. He lowered his voice so that Duke wouldn't hear him. "No. Can you reverse-search a serial number off that medication I sent you?"

"…Sure, Colt. That's even something you could do."

"It is?"

"Well, the FDA requites that you have to have an imprint of any single letter, number, or combinations of letters, numbers, words, company names, Nation Drug Code, mark symbol, logo, or monogram on the pill. It is the identification of the drug and requires verification of its active ingredients and dosage strength."

"I didn't ask you to give me the Google response, I just needed to know if you could do it."

"I can and I already did."

"And?"

"And it's from MedoCal."

"Thanks, B." Colt hung up and immediately called Rocky. Got no answer. Called again. Then after the firth ring was picked up. "Before you yell at me," Colt said before Rocky could grouse. Rocky hated to be interrupted at work. "I got proof."


	23. Confrontations

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

* * *

Sam Douglas would never say he was an impatient man. He learned a lot about patience from his love of baseball—being on and off the field. Having grown up with the sport, having played all positions on a parks and rec team before sticking straight of being a pitcher. There were times, here and there, that he was named the captain of some of those baseball teams. Unlike soccer or basketball, baseball didn't offer team captains as much, so the times that Sam had the recognition in the leadership position helped give him the drive he needed to continue advancing where he wanted to go in life.

His patience was what helped him get through the Police Academy; through all the long nights of studying, the long days of physical tests, the background checks, basic abilities test of reading comprehension, cognitive reasoning, and problem solving, through the physical assessments, polygraph exams, psychological exams, physicals, legal training, driving assessments, equipment training, and firearm training.

All the while he was establishing and continuing a relationship with a girl who was much too nice to be so understanding of all the time he put into his work into becoming a police officer. But endured it anyway. And ultimately married him and continued to endure everything that went along with it. Even when they fought. Even when they should've been a unified front but the fear for their children's' safety made it so that even they were starting to become off-kilter.

But it was the base that kept him going through even some of the toughest times he'd ever been through.

It was also, partially, why he decided to become a baseball coach later. His own dreams of potentially having future sons to play with was in the back of his mind. Being able to be around baseball again was helpful to calm him down from a stressful job in the police force. His background in practicing pitches, catches, line drives, pop flys, and everything that went along with learning every position on the field made it so that he knew where he was at all points in time. His own sort of spirituality that his boys found in ninja training that he'd hoped they would've taken on as well.

And it was that sort of spirituality, that drive, that kept him toward figuring out where Jack Harding was. And what resulted in him and his partner, Jerry, to stake out some of the tips they'd received to track him down.

"And I thought Snyder was hard to find," Agent Kuhrl mumbled, shifting lower in the passenger seat of their nondiscriminatory car. How stupid would it be for them to bring attention to themselves? To scream out that they were police, waiting for someone.

Waiting for a certain important someone.

"Snyder did his best to keep me on my toes for years," Sam pointed out. He ran his fingers over his mustache. "And it wasn't for some sick sort of cat and mouse game, but because he wanted to get back at me for dating Jessica."

"You know…sometimes I wondered if he did everything in his life simply because he was trying to get back at you," Jerry murmured. "That he went, specifically, into arms dealing and nearly nuclear warfare just to get her attention or something."

"That'd be something only a sick sort of psychopath would do."

"…which is exactly who Snyder was."

Sam couldn't help but smile, chuckling a little to himself while Jerry let himself laugh hysterically. "That's not funny," he managed to say after a second, but continued to chuckle. "'I mean…no, no, that's not funny. And, besides, we're not dealing with Snyder right now."

"Right, we're just working on…" Jerry started to count on his fingers. "Harding, Medusa…and who was that guy in Japan again? Koga?" Sam turned and glared at his partner. "Relax, Sam, I'm just trying to take your mind off things. You've been really uptight since we found out that Harding was going to be released from prison."

Sam merely hummed in response, turning his gaze back to the rows of offices that lay out in front of them. The streets were empty; trash rolling through the streets, caught in storm covers, and fluttering uselessly in the wind. And yet filled with some of the seediest men and women he'd ever seen walking between buildings, sometimes close to the car before veering away, as if there was a neon sign that said 'POLICE' just above the hood of the car.

Just where criminal masterminds would put themselves to try and be inconspicuous. He'd seen it a lot over the years, different areas that those who were up to something decided to hunker down and create their plans. Private islands with large mansions built atop of it where no one would be able to reach. Bars, where the most boisterous men and bartenders couldn't figure out if threats of violence was just drunken ramblings. Actual houses, where the most inconspicuous men were the ones that were to handle their business dealings behind their families' backs. After hours at a harbor, beach, or a parking lot; those were the ones Sam thought were the dumbest, if he were being honest. There were too many people who thought if they were out in the open, no one would second guess them.

Then there were the private offices in the shitty areas, where Sam and Jerry were parked. It was the sort of place that Sam knew Harding would've gone to, at first. Just because he had to make his money, and when he had the money in his possession, he'd move to someplace bigger. Jack Harding was a business tycoon, and even worse, he was an egocentric business tycoon and always had to have the biggest and the best. He was the one who took a megaphone from a police officer and rubbed it in the Tawankan tribe's face that they'd signed a contract and made it so that he could do whatever he wanted to their land.

And did it gleefully.

Sam felt a sort of shame to know everything that'd happened after the fact. Not just because some of the men beneath him had been intricately weaved in the plot with the Mayor and Harding to keep things under wraps, but because of how close his sons had become to the Tawankan tribe. Sam always waited for the stories the boys would tell him about their ninja training when they returned from their grandpa's cabin, but hadn't expected it to be that they were honorary warriors of the Tawankan Tribe.

Didn't know that Colt had, essentially, fallen in love with one of the girls from the tribe. (Or as in "love" as someone that age could be, and as in "love" as Colt could become). Hadn't really known Jo and her family as part of the citizenship he was working to protect every day but grew to enjoy her company around her sons. She could calm them down in ways he'd never seen before and was certainly more than impressed by her soft-spoken nature but spirit of harmony, peace, and tenderness that strengthened her in ways he hadn't seen before.

The only way he could make things better, to make some sort of atonement, was if he found Harding sooner rather than later, and took him down before things got to be too messy. He hated having to see the looks on his sons' faces when he had to tell them to leave things alone, to just be normal, to let him figure things out, despite being thankful for their help. Even though he knew they were figuring things out quicker than the FBI ever could, and more than he'd like.

_It's to protect them, _Sam thought, reminded himself. He couldn't have anything happen to them. That was the hardest part of being FBI, that they didn't get, that Sam couldn't talk about. Even moving up in the ranks of being a police officer, all they saw was dad coming back from a 'cool job' and wondering what 'bad guys' he'd caught that day. They didn't know how many times he was sure he wouldn't come home.

How many times he'd been shot at.

How many times he'd ended up in the hospital without them knowing.

How many car accidents he'd been in due to police chases.

How many times he'd gone undercover with drug dealers and had to spend days away, detoxing the drugs from his system so he could return home.

How many times he'd stayed up late with a revolver at his side and staring at the front door, wondering when one of his enemies would make the mistake of trying to break into the house and meet their untimely demise. That was the part that got him the most. When would his enemies target his family? For _years, _since Rocky was born, Sam wondered when someone was going to target his family to get back at him. And for years he allowed his fears to slowly subside, until he returned from a night out with his wife to find all the lights in the house on, the doors open, and his sons missing.

All until Snyder kidnapped his children.

It was a parent's worst fear that'd come to life and he couldn't have it happen again. This time, however, Jack was indirectly related to multiple deaths from poisoning, it was only a matter of time until he did the violence himself, or used someone else to step up his game. He couldn't have that happen.

"I know you're worried about the boys," Jerry continued. "I am, too, man. They're, like, my sons, too." Sam nodded at that. Jerry and his wife had never had children; Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum were his surrogate children. Had been there for every milestone. "And you best believe that when Rocky graduates I'm going to embarrass him as much as you and Jessica are, I'm so happy for the kid. But we have every measure in place to keep them safe."

"No, we don't," Sam insisted. His hands clenched into fists. He started to shake. "Not since they've learned how to defend themselves. I can't keep them safe."

"You can't control everything, Sam."

"I can try."

"They can take care of themselves."

"Not with things like this!" Sam continued to shake. His movements made the car start to vibrate along with the rhythm of his tapping foot. "Never with things like this. They act like that ninja training is cool and is like the movies. That they're always going to win because of truth, justice, and the American Way." Finally, Sam looked his partner, his best friend in the eye. "You and I know that's not true."

Jerry remained silent.

"The world is a dangerous place and we've seen some of the most innocent people get gunned down for nothing more than walking down the wrong side of the street. For looking at someone funny. For even stepping out their front door! I can't have that for them!"

"And you think protecting them from it is better?" Jerry demanded. His eyes flashed. For a moment, he rested his head back against the headrest behind him. "I contacted you as soon as I heard about Harding."

"Yeah, and you told me that he did his time, he was an innocent man, and was walking free," Sam reminded him.

"And I told you that you needed to move on, move forward." Jerry ran a hand over his face, chuckled humorlessly. "I should've known that was the worst advice I could ever give you. This is Sam Douglas I'm talking to, the guy who does nothing more than keep his eye on whatever prize he's working toward. The most patient guy I've ever seen, who sat by and watched as people got his promotions and transfers he rightfully deserved and did it all with a smile. Your tunnel vision has helped us many times, man, but this time, this time I think you may have taken it too far."

"Yeah, well, you don't have any children, you wouldn't get it."

Sam turned away, briefly closing his eyes. He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he made a mistake. The tension in the car rose so hard, so fast he was surprised that the gas tank hadn't sparked and immediately imploded. That they didn't all go up in flames. Jerry sucked in a deep breath and released it before speaking.

"That's cold, Sam. Real cold, but I get it. It's like when we got Snyder, and I told you we had everything. What did you tell me?"

"We got nothing without him," Sam replied. He could hear the words in his mind almost every night. "I want him."

"Right. I guess it's the same thing here. That we can get everything, but you won't stop until Harding's back in prison. I get it. You're trying to protect your kids. But you shouldn't control their lives either. The more you push them to do what you want, out of fear, the more they're going to resent you and do what they want. If I were you, I'd get their help on this. Because when something happens, and I'm just warning you that it might, you'll want to have had their help." Jerry shook his head. "Freaky ninja powers aside,"—Sam smiled, always finding it amusing how often it was the reaction to his sons' abilities—"They may be able to see things we don't."

"And I know things they don't," Sam said stubbornly.

Jerry conceded that.

They stayed silent for a long time, continuing to watch, waiting for Harding so they could confront him.

All the while Sam wondered how the night had turned into him being confronted by the truth.

* * *

"Rocky, are you sure this is a good idea?"

Colt's voice held the most hesitation Rocky had ever heard from his younger brother. Usually, Colt was the first one rearing to go. Even without a plan, he was seconds away from charging into whatever danger that was facing them. Who else would've been the one to try and kick down Rushmore—the biggest guy they'd ever seen?

"No," Rocky said honestly. He cleared his throat, sliding lower in the driver's seat of his truck. He leaned back, pressing the back of his head against the head rest with so much force that his hat popped off his head. He pulled it off, wiping his arm across his forehead where sweat had set up camp along his hairline. "But I don't know what else to do."

"Really?" Tum-Tum sounded skeptical from the backseat. He tore open a Snicker's bar, ripping the crinkling package with his teeth, and chomped into it. The sweet smell of chocolate permeated the car, cloaking them with the smell along with the stench of sweat. "I could think of a million other things to do."

Rocky and Colt turned at the same time, glaring at their youngest brother before facing forward once more. A sigh bubbled to Rocky's lips. He briefly closed his eyes, trying to think. Trying to make sense of everything. Of what they knew and didn't know. There was a ninja tournament sponsored by MedoCal that had suddenly arrived, MedoCal was, somehow, a multi-million-dollar company, Reed worked with MedoCal to create supplements that were passed out as free samples to promote the company and drum up some interest. Some people at school had them. Some people got sick. It being reverse-searched proved it came from MedoCal.

There was a disconnect in there, somewhere. Something they were missing. Something they were one step away from figuring out.

That thing that drove them to the Jacksons' front door after telling their mother they were going to hang out at the pizza shop that night. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Though she did give them all a funny look when they said they'd be hanging out together for a night. Not that it was strange, they made it a point to hang out with only each other every now and then. A sight to be seen when they posed proof on their Instagram profiles, of which their friends would make joking comments about. Nevertheless, Jessica smiled warmly and said, "Have fun tonight. Call me if you need anything," as any mother would.

Rocky hated how they were probably going to disappoint her.

It was enough their father had already told them in no uncertain terms that they weren't be around the Jacksons, but to lie to their mother? Some things were unforgiveable. Not to mention the amount of times they'd seen their mother on the phone with Renee, seeming to give her husband challenging looks when he realized who she was speaking to.

_Mom's always been stronger than any of us thought, _he reminded himself. Mori had flat out told them that once before. They'd been at dinner, talking about their mother's and father's childhood and the boys' surprised reactions to know their mother used to have and love to ride motorcycles. The woman they knew to be so put together and girly, ride a motorcycle?

And all it took was Mori's quiet comment of, "I used to hate when she rode that thing around. But your mother can take care of herself. Your grandma and I made sure she could."

_She can take care of herself, _he reminded himself.

"So…" Tum-Tum popped his lips. "Are we going to go inside or…?" He took another bite of chocolate.

"Do you _have _to eat right now?" Colt demanded. "That smell is revolting."

Tum-Tum scowled. "I'm _stress_-eating!"

"What's your excuse every other time of the day?"

"Shut up, spaz!"

"Colt," Rocky grumbled. "Knock it off."

Colt glared. "What are you getting mad at me for? He's the one who's being the jerk. That smell is _revolting_!"

"Because you know better than that," Rocky replied, crossly, eyebrows knitted together as he continued to stare out the front window. Knowing, hearing, and hating how much he sounded like his parents int hat moment. Knowing, hearing, and hating how much he was regurgitating what their therapists had told them.

Silence filled the car.

Until Tum-Tum repeated his question, but this time with less attitude. "Are we going to go in?"

"Yeah," Rocky finally replied. "Let's go." He led the way out the car and up the driveway to the Jacksons house. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed the doorbell and stood back so not to be hit by the storm door when it opened.

Renee greeted the boys with a warm smile when she saw them standing on her front porch. "Hi, boys." She placed a hand on her hip, the other holding onto the doorknob. "Would you like to come in?" She didn't give them the chance to respond before opening the door wider and ushering them inside.

Rocky felt himself relax ever so slightly as he stepped over the threshold. Looked over the house, having not been there since their ill-fated dinner party. Not everything was in its place, there was a haphazard stack of magazines across the coffee table, shoes piled by the front door, and dishes soaking in the sink that Rocky noticed, peering into the kitchen.

It looked like they lived in a house, not in a museum.

Not like how they had to keep their place.

"Would you like anything to drink?"

"That's okay, Mrs. Jackson," Rocky said quickly, all smiles. As charming as ever. "We're not really thirsty."

"You can call me Renee," she replied. "But if you'd like anything, just call." She twisted her mouth to the side. "My kids are doing their homework. It's probably the only time I've ever had this place so quiet. It's actually starting to scare me." Her eyes roved over them for a long moment, seeming to bore into them the longer she stared. "They mentioned you were asking about MedoCal," she said after a second. "That you'd gone to his office to figure some things out."

"Yes, we were really interested in his work with the company," Colt said. "Our project is on the Stock Market Crash." He still managed to say it with such a straight face that Rocky wondered why Colt had never gone into acting.

Renee gave a little laugh. "You're researching the Stock Market Crash and…are linking that to MedoCal's newest venture?" With a light shrug, she turned away. "I understand _that_…I didn't know they had seniors, juniors, and freshmen work on projects together, but it's been a little while since I've been out of school."

"A long while, I reckon," Patrick commented, slipping out of the kitchen behind her. He flashed a grin up at his mother that waned a little when his mother turned a glare toward him. "I, uh, finished my homework."

"All of it?"

"Uh-huh." Renee waved a hand and Patrick immediately tucked his books under his arm. He looked to Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum, face screwing up in confusion. No, Rocky realized after a second. Slight suspicion, a little bit of anger. "What are you doing here?"

_We deserve that, _Rocky realized, after everything that'd gone down at MedoCal, hearing Sam's and Reed's words back and forth.

"They came to ask your father some more questions about MedoCal," Renee replied. She reached up her hand to run her fingertips over the spiked mohawk he'd put in his hair, frowning at the film the gel holding it up left on her fingertips. "Unfortunately, my husband's not home right now. Ironically, he's at work. But you're free to make yourselves home until he gets back."

"We are?" Tum-Tum blurted, before being shushed by Colt. Rocky looked over at Patrick, finding he'd asked the question at the same time as Tum-Tum, "They are?"

"Of course! You're always welcome over here." Renee smiled warmly at the boys once more. "Just let me know if you need anything." With that, she turned on her heel and went into the kitchen. Patrick shrugged and turned, leaving the hallway to disappear around the corner, his footsteps pounding up the stairs.

The boys were left alone.

"What do we do now?" Tum-Tum asked.

"Make ourselves at home, I guess," Colt replied slowly. He looked to Rocky, before his eyes searched the room around him, as if waiting for police and security to jump out of the walls and arrest them for what'd happened in MedoCal.

Rocky nodded and moved the three into the living room. It wasn't far enough from the kitchen that they couldn't hear parts of the conversation Renee was having with her children.

"You let them in?" Rhuben asked.

Renee sounded surprised, and a little insulted when she replied, "I'm not going to turn them away at the door."

Then Riley said, "You and dad did talk about what happened at MedoCal, yeah? Mr. Douglas doesn't want them hanging around us."

A light pause then Renee asked pointedly, "You think he doesn't have a reason for that?"

Riley sounded offended, angry when she sarcastically asked, "I save the bloke from getting his face smashed into a counter and, in all this, you're going to blame us and our friends? Thanks, mum."

"You know it's not like that."

"Then what is it?" Rhuben asked. The same tone as her sister.

Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum all exchanged glances, still listening. Tum-Tum opened his mouth, about to say something, but stopped when Rocky brought a finger up to his lips. Tum-Tum firmly pressed his lisp together and folded his arms, looked away. Gnawed away at his lower lip as if it were candy.

"You need to set a good example for the boys." Another pause. "You know that. And, you promised it wouldn't be like last time."

"It's _not_, mum!" Riley insisted. "I thought you'd trust us by now."

"That's the problem with trust, sweetie. It's really hard to get it back once it's lost."

"So, what d'you want us to do?"

"Entertain them until your father gets home."

Rhuben's mumble was so low that Rocky nearly didn't hear her. "If he _ever _gets home."

Nevertheless, Renee swept out of the kitchen and disappeared down the hall as if nothing had happened. It didn't take too long for Riley and Rhuben to follow after her.

Almost as if expecting her mother to be lying, Riley's eyebrows shot up when she saw the boys. Then her eyes zeroed in on Rocky. "Hi, Sam," she greeted. There wasn't much warmth to her voice. "What are you lot doing here?"

"I came to see you," Rocky replied. Then he frowned. That sounded a bit forward, though, he found with a start, it wasn't a lie. It just didn't help that Colt and Tum-Tum snickered beside him, while Rhuben's lips pulled back into an amused smile. "To, uh, ask about the homework."

Now it was Rhuben's turn to lift an eyebrow. Watched him quietly.

Riley, on the other hand, stared directly at him, eyes narrowing every so slightly as they roved over his face. Finally, she said, "Uh-huh," and leaned forward. "What did you _really _want to talk about?"

"I wanted to talk to you about your dad." Riley hitched her eyebrow even higher. "'About MedoCal?"

"Okay. What about it?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

Rocky jumped, not noticing Sydney sitting on a far armchair with a laptop placed in his lap. With dimples in his cheeks and a wide smile, Sydney flicked his eyes back and forth between Rocky and his eldest sister.

Riley shook her head back at him, rolling her eyes. Clearly, she was as used to the antics of younger siblings as he was. "He wasn't talking to you, Syd," Riley reminded him.

"I know." Sydney closed his laptop with a resounding click. "But I can't stop listening if someone talks."

Rhuben reached up and scratched the back of her head. "Don't you have homework to do?"

Sydney's frown immediately made Riley pounce. "Go do your homework."

"What about you?" Sydney asked, almost pouting.

Riley smirked. "I already did it."

"I already did it," Sydney mocked in a high-pitched tone. He stood up and moved to her side. "Come on, I want to know what's going on." He looked to Rocky then back to Riley. "Or do you just want to be alone?"

"We want to be alone," Riley replied. She reached out and grabbed the back of her youngest brother's head, pushing him towards the stairs.

"You're not mum, you can't tell me what to do."

"But it does give me liberty to kick your ass. Homework. Go." Sydney stuck her tongue out at her, making her stick hers out in reply before laughing and lovingly ruffle his hair. Sydney did as he was told, moving by the group, casting another glance at them as he went.

"We're just trying to understand some things," Colt spoke up. "Like, how did your dad get his job."

Again, Rhuben shrugged. "Connections," She said. "I reckon we don't understand everything about our dad's job, hey? But what do most people know about rocket science? It just proves it's not what you know, but who you know. He'd been to a lot of meetings, talked about a job change." She looked at her twin out the corner of her eye. "Next thing we knew, we were told we were moving."

"If he's a rocket scientist, how is he working with a pharmaceutical company?" Rocky asked.

"The same way artists can become English teachers?" Riley said, still watching him closely. Rocky pulled at the collar of his shirt, not particularly liking the feeling. It was like he was being X-Ray'd. "What you get your degree in doesn't necessarily mean it's what you're going to do with the rest of your life. It was an offer he couldn't refuse, it was an opportunity he saw a lot of promise in."

Rocky's mind whirled a mile a minute. _Mr. Jackson is a rocket scientist and is now working at the same company that Harding owns. He's made the supplements that are making my friends sick…_The answer was right in front of him. Point A met Point B. Still, Rocky couldn't help but feel he was missing something. It didn't _necessarily _mean Mr. Jackson was making them, didn't _necessarily _mean that he was working alongside Harding.

Something was coming to him, but very slowly.

Riley continued. "My dad loves to learn about everything; so going into a new venture that still used his chemistry background was a good pull."

"He has a degree in chemistry?" He knew that wasn't true. Saw the degrees on Reed's office walls. But he was half-listening, still trying to figure out what it was he was still working to figure out. Something staring him right in the face.

"No, he double majored in Aerospace and Mechanical Engineering but did very well in chemistry." Her words were now clipped, cheeks slowly turning red. "I'm not going to ask you again, mate, what did you come here for?" He exchanged another look with Colt and Tum-Tum, who were practically signaling a boat with how wide their eyes were. Rocky opened his mouth, thinking of the best way to phrase it. Never got the chance, for Riley hissed, "You have a lot of nerve coming here."

Rocky stood as well. "I'm just trying to help my friends—"

"—Your friends that you think our dad is poisoning?" Rhuben asked flatly.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to, jackass!" Riley spat, her sudden fury making him blink in surprise. "The fact that you'd even sit here and imply he'd do something like that—" she cut herself off, eyes shifting toward the ceiling in thought. "You broke into his building, lied about a project on the Stock Market Crash—which is bloody stupid, by the way—and now you're accusing him of poisoning people we've been nothing but nice to?" She lifted her hand and shot him the finger. "Fuck you."

Rocky huffed in frustration. That wasn't how he'd expected—or wanted—the conversation to go. He brought up his hands and rubbed it through his hair. "—I'm not saying he did, I'm just trying to figure things out. That's all we're doing, trying to figure things out!"

"We don't want anyone else to get hurt," Colt added. "And if Harding's behind this. Someone's going to get hurt. He's already gotten Jo arrested—"

"—Wait, wait wait." Rhuben held up her hands, cutting Colt off. "Harding? Who's Harding?"

"Jack Harding. He owns MedoCal. He's your dad's boss."

"Hardass is Harding?"

Tum-Tum immediately reached into his pocket and whipped out his cell phone. He type for a few seconds and brought up the initial newspaper article that set everything off. Rocky caught a glimpse of the headline when Tum-Tum handed it over. _Harding Released From Prison._

"That's him," Tum-Tum said, pointing to the picture.

The twin girls looked over the phone for a second before Rhuben leaned back, shaking his head. "That's not his boss," she said. "I don't know who this bloke is, but that's not him."

"What?" Rocky couldn't help utter.

Harding wasn't 'Hardass?'. Wasn't Reed's boss.

"If he's not your dad's boss, then who is?" Colt asked, voicing Rocky's thoughts.

"We got the wrong guy?" Tum-Tum asked.

"No, Harding is still behind this," Rocky murmured. His mind whirred a mile a minute, working to figure out what the new revelation meant for them. It slowly formed. "He's, somehow, taking Reed's supplements, and putting something in them, distributing them to continue getting money. But he's making people sick while he does it." He laced his fingers together. "But why? And why would he target your dad?"

"Hm." Riley pressed her lips together. She twisted her mouth to the side, eyes roving over Rocky's face as she thought. Finally, she called over her shoulder, "Syd?"

"Yeah?" Sydney shouted back quickly, quick enough that it made Rocky realize he'd been eavesdropping on their conversation from somewhere nearby.

"Get the boys," Riley replied. She waited until she heard rapid footsteps moving from the living room—Rocky _thought _he'd been nearby—thunder up the stairs before turning back to him. "What can we do to help?"


	24. Answered Questions

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

* * *

"We've been sitting here for almost an hour," Tum-Tum complained. At least, complained in between spitting his gum out of his mouth, up above his head, and catching it in his mouth once more. Rocky watched him out the corner of his eye, a silent warning that if he were to get the gum anywhere but his mouth, he'd kill his little brother. It was a miracle enough that Rocky allowed either of his brothers in his room for more than a few minutes without a fight breaking out. And the only thing keeping them from peace and a brotherly spat, was Tum-Tum potentially getting gum in Rocky's bed. "What are we waiting for?"

"We'll know it when we see it, Tum," Colt replied. He lounged on the floor, keeping his hands clearly out of the space of the wheels of Rocky's chair that he nervously pushed back and forth, eyes roving the screen of his laptop. "…Though I'm not quite sure what it is we're looking for."

"At least you can admit it," Rocky mumbled. He sighed, turning from the computer screen to rub at his eyes. His tired, burning eyes from behind his glasses. He peeled them off and set them by his computer screen, squinting when he realized it hadn't fixed the fuzziness at all. The stress was starting to get to him. "I just don't understand how he could have done this for so long without anyone noticing he was building a company. Even gang members who have connections on the outside are watched in case they try to make a hit."

Another cautionary tale from their mother and father about staying out too late in LA, and who they associated themselves with.

"What if it's not under his name?" Tum-Tum piped up.

Colt made a face. "You can't use a fake name when registering for these things, stupid. People will actually come after you, or audit you or whatever." He ran a hand through his hair. "I feel sorry for when you try to get a job. Who'd take a guy named 'Tum-Tum' seriously?"

"_I'm _not the one who tried to get people to actually believe 'Colt' was my birth name."

Rocky remembered that drama for a while. When he started to apply for jobs, Rocky would always use his birth name on applications and when filling out forms, then correcting people to call him Rocky later on. Colt, however, had grown so much more accustomed to his ninja name over the years that he exclusively went by it, making sure even those in the front office at their school referred to him by Colt rather than Jefferey. It became a point of contention when he first applied to jobs and filled out applications that would end up rejected-such were the perks of online forms-when his name wouldn't match the 'given name' of the social security number that was filled in.

Tum-Tum noticed Rocky's impatient expression and quickly changed the subject. "I just meant…you know how dad has that Policeman's Ball every year? And there's that silent auction they use to raise money? It's for a foundation, not one single person. What If Harding didn't make the company under his name but under a different name? Like, a foundation or something?"

Colt's eyes slowly widened. "And the money he's been receiving from them isn't going directly to Harding. Maybe, like, in an off-shore account or something. Dad's talked to us about that before."

"And it'd keep Harding's name from being easily connected," Rocky agreed. "Yes!" He thought for a moment then turned to Colt. "Do you think Brett can figure that out? Find the name of the foundation or something?" He pressed at Colt's sudden hesitation. "He worked out that the medicine you found in that car was drugs," he reminded his brother.

"I know," Colt said slowly. "But…do you really want to get Brett involved that far? This is different than trying to rescue Jo's dad or clearing the Jacksons' dad's name. This is really putting them him in danger. Especially if things get traced back to him."

Rocky opened and closed his mouth. Thought about it. If it were Jason or Emily…he didn't have to think about it. He never wanted to have them in that sort of situation. Emily only had a taste of it when she was held hostage by Fester when he and his friends broke into their house all those years ago. But she was let go, told to wait until his parents got home before giving them the ransom note. Nevertheless, it caused her to go to therapy for a while. If Harding was dealing with drugs, there were going to be stronger men to protect it. They boys weren't naïve, there were other drugs going around their school, pot mostly, but they'd been so into the thought of a sound mind, body, and spirit through their ninja training that they'd never been tempted.

Still, there were burnouts and those that used it for fun at parties and they heard from their dad what happened to those that dealt and became addicted to their drugs. There were always those that became dangerous and dangerously paranoid to the point that they'd kill each other without a second thought just to protect their business.

And this was a man who was knowingly murdering people by dumping chemical toxins onto their land.

"We've already got the Jacksons involved," Tum-Tum said.

He spat the gum into his hand and threw it into the nearby wastebasket in a sharp overhead throw that reminded Rocky of simpler times since Medusa's arrest and Harding's release form prison. Usually they'd spend the night playing catch with each other. Now they were trying to take down a hardened criminal who was trying to overrun the city.

"Yeah, but that's because it's their dad that's being targeted."

"So? Jo was arrested!"

"I know…" Rocky trailed off. Tried not to focus too much on how protective Colt had become of Jo since their friendship had started. It just made him wonder what was making him hesitate, while simultaneously wondered what would happen when he was gone. As the thought crossed his mind, Rocky saw the stack of brochures for universities stacked on the corner of his desk and pushed it beneath a couple of baseball magazines.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Colt shook his head. "I'll ask B if you really want me to, Rocky."

Rocky's nose scrunched in thought. Sometimes he really hated being the one to make the decisions, but it wasn't something he took lightly. On one hand, if they had Brett's help, there was more they could find out than any of the rest of them could find on their own. On the other…would he be targeted next? Jason had already been run off the road because of Rocky, Jo had already been arrested…what would happen next?

And as for the Jacksons…it was even an internal struggle then to agree to have them work with the brothers. He'd exchanged a glance with Colt and Tum-Tum when Riley had asked what they were going to do.

"I'm sorry," Colt had said, the first one to find his voice among the tension that slowly rose around them. He lifted a hand, blinking a little. "We?" He repeated.

Rhuben lifted her eyebrows. "Yes, 'we'." She folded her arms, tilting her head. "You can't think that you'd accuse our dad of poisoning people and think we're not going to help clear his name." She motioned towards Tum-Tum. "If it weren't for us, you wouldn't know that the bloke you're looking for isn't our dad's boss."

"Or, God forbid, that he's actually doing this," Riley added.

"He is, I just don't think he knows that he is," Rocky interrupted.

Riley lifted an eyebrow. "I really hope you don't have a girlfriend, mate, or else she's a saint for being able to handle your insensitivity."

Rocky pressed his lips together. He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes. Once, twice. His shoulders relaxed when he let out the last one and opened his eyes once more. He nodded, more to himself than to the Jacksons. Patrick and Noah quietly entered the room behind Sydney, who eagerly moved to lean against the back of the couch, not wanting to miss anything that was being said.

"You're right," he said. "I'm sorry." And he was. Very sorry. For the way he spoke and for saying it in the first place, outright accusing them when he wasn't 100% sure.

His frustration was getting to him in ways he'd never had been before. It was a chip in shoulder, a crack in the armor of the peaceful life he tried to live. The solution to the mystery was eluding him and it was driving him crazy. With Snyder, they figured things out quickly, with Harding—the first time—they figured things out quickly, same with Koga and Medusa. But this time, Harding had gotten as smarter as the boys had, and whatever he was doing, he made sure it was tougher to determine his game plan and endgame.

But it was much more than that, it was the memories of having been put in the same position. The amount of times his peers had questioned what his father did for his job among the police being criticized in general. Being criticized in the force that came with being in law enforcement, and how it translated into their personal life. Rocky could still remember the times he was embarrassed by his father missing events, or showing up later only to stand by with his hands in his pockets, staring at the baseball field or the basketball court with an almost impatient expression on his face that made even the tiniest of kids steer clear of him.

Then there were those that continuously threw around the, "Or what, you're going to arrest me?" taunt when not having the, "Your father's a policeman," shoved in their faces to make sure they upheld themselves and not rebel like everyone else seemed able to do. (Which also seemed to spur Colt's frustration and anger as the years went by).

"I didn't mean it the way it came out," Rocky said. He made sure to think before speaking clearly. "We just think your dad is being used by Harding to make bad batches of supplements to make people sick."

"Why couldn't you just say that?" Tum-Tum mumbled under his breath. Rocky and Colt both glared at him, making him hold his hands up defensively and turn away, lest be struck with the wrath of his impatient brothers once more.

"Why?"

Rocky blinked back his surprise at the single question. "Why what?"

"Why would this…" Patrick trailed off, waving a hand in a circle. "Harding bloke want to use our dad's supplements to make people sick?" He pushed his glasses up his nose. "I reckon it doesn't make much sense, with all the bad publicity that'd come from it."

Noah suddenly spoke, eyebrows coming together. His voice was quiet, gaze pointed to the floor. "Because he wouldn't be the one who'd take the fall. Guys like that, there's always going to be a fall guy, if he can make a bloody business, he would make sure he wasn't the first suspect." He shrugged. "The rich get richer and the poor get poorer."

"Okay, but what makes you think that its our dad's vitamins doing it?" Riley asked. She continued to study the boys carefully, more like looking through them as she tried to work things out. The red hue in her cheeks had faded, but the tension continued to stick in her shoulders. "Just so I don't have to kill you for a fucking baseless accusation."

"Because I found some in this car I was working on," Colt said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the same green packet of vitamins that they'd seen passed out since the ninja tournament. He passed it to them, watching as each Jackson took it and looked it over. Until Sydney took it and frowned intensely, holding it up to the light. "And it's the same stuff that your dad's been making and has been spreading around."

"No, it's not," Sydney said. He tilted his head back, sliding a pill out of the packet and held it up to the light. He squinted before leaving the living room, heading in the direction of the kitchen. He came back a few seconds later with a similar looking pill in the palm of his hand. "See?" Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum leaned forward to examine the pills. Both were green, one was vibrant in color, the other paler. Not easily noticed if they weren't next to each other. "And this one," he rolled the pill that Colt had given him in his hand, "Has a different serial number. It's the same corresponding numbers for the manufacturing so that it can be traced to Medocal, yeah? But it hasn't been fashioned in the same batch as the actual vitamin. This one's a knock-off."

"What?" Rhuben asked.

"It's been making people sick," Colt said. "Whole soccer team was taken down. Its why practice was cancelled."

"No, I knew that." She waved a hand flippantly. "I meant more of, who would want to poison people at our school?"

"The same people that like to lace Halloween candy, I reckon," Patrick joked, causing all of his siblings to roll their eyes at the same time.

The corner of Rocky's lips turned up. Then dropped as he figured it out. "They're not being poisoned, they're being drugged." He turned to Colt. "You said Darren and Darryl were, like, amped up after taking that stuff, right?" Colt shrugged, expression clearly asking, 'So?'. "What if it's like a steroid? Or…an opiate? Boosts you up, then you crash. They may be suffering from withdrawals, I'm sure a lot of people from school were at the tournament. It's where they would've gotten the sample."

"So, what do you think?" Patrick asked.

"I think we should—"

Patrick smiled kindly, eyes flashing with amusement. "No offense, Rocky, but I wasn't talking to you." Rocky watched as he turned to Riley and repeated the question.

She folded her arms, letting out a breath through her nose. She twisted her mouth to the side. "If something's crook with dad, and you know he won't tell us, then we need to figure out what's going on ourselves." She looked to each of her siblings who nodded, then turned back to Rocky. "I mean, if your dad would let us around." Rocky blushed. She shrugged. "No hard feelings, mate, he wouldn't be the first to decide that about us."

And so the boys had left with more answers, one step closer to figuring out what Harding was doing and how to stop him.

"There's one thing you see to be forgetting," Tum-Tum said, breaking Rocky from his thoughts and worries. They'd worked with other people to stop their enemies before; Emily, Jo, Miyo, Amanda…what made him worry so much this time? Now that they were getting answers, he shouldn't have been as anxious. "If Harding isn't Reed's boss, who is?"

"That doesn't matter if we know that Harding is the owner of the company," Rocky said calmly.

Tum-Tum gave him a 'duh' look, suddenly reminding Rocky that Tum-Tum wasn't just his baby brother, he wasn't just the youngest. But that he was a person, who was growing older, and had his own set of skills and experiences that helped him grow. He wasn't just a kid who could use his stature and length to surprise people and knock the mover, he wasn't just a battering ram that Rocky and Colt could pick up and throw around.

He actually could help.

And proved he could when Tum-Tum added, "It does if his boss is someone else we may know but aren't thinking about." He thought for a moment. "I don't think _this _mayor would be dumb enough to work with him, but that doesn't mean that he didn't have people he was in connection with when he was in prison. Not everyone got tried and convicted."

Rocky nodded, looked to Colt. "He's got a point." It was something their father warned them about multiple times as he dragged himself home from long nights of work; that the judicial system didn't always work the way everyone would like. He warned them of stalking cases where the stalker could continue to reign their terror because there was "nothing the police could do." Domestic abuse cases where someone ended up dead because the abuser was able to charm everyone—even worse when it was a male victim who wasn't taken seriously that a female could beat him up.

Then there were those in murder cases who got immunity or little to no time in exchange for giving up information. All to protect themselves. Their father had shielded them from most of the outcome of Harding's trial after they were put on the stand.

Maybe if he'd told them, things would've been easier for what was going on now.

_Then again, _Rocky thought, knees starting to bounce up and down. _No one thought he'd ever get out of prison. _He took in a deep breath, trying to steady his calm nerves.

Tum-Tum smiled.

"What are we going to do, then?" Colt demanded, folding his arms. "Ask dad to take us into work and let us go through a lineup of suspects?" He chuckled to himself, an incredulous chuckle that only someone who experience in their situation could. "Show us some photos of the most hardened criminals in California?"

Rocky shook his head, rolling his eyes. Then stopped, something in the back of his head making more sense. It wasn't Point A to Point B. It was Point A to Point C needing to be connected by Point B. And Colt, as annoying and flippant as his comment was, helped him connect that Point B to Points A and C.

Point A – MedoCal was established and the vitamins that were being produced were quickly being distributed among the city through the ninja tournament and other ventures. Vitamins targeted towards teenagers and other health nuts were easy to distribute.

Point B – Reed Jackson was the man who was _making _the vitamins but wasn't the one who was distributing them. Something or someone was taking what he was making and changing it once it was out of Reed's hands.

Point C – It wasn't vitamins that were making people sick, it was drugs and the _withdrawals _were making people sick. Some of the vitamin packets were real, but similar looking drugs were being dealt as well.

Something came to him then; a memory. A clue.

_Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum moved back to their parents, who bid goodbye to Reed and Renee before they went back to the bleachers. They brought Mori a meatball sub, which he excited gobbled up the second it was passed to him, before the boys went back to the fighting area. Rocky took a few minutes to whip out his camera and take a few pictures of the contestants in the practice area and the surrounding tournament spectators. Most of the spectators stopped and turned with bright smiles—probably thinking he was an official photographer for the event, the competitors gave half smiles, too focused on what was going on around them, then there were the odd people who didn't want a picture taken. One man's scowl toward Rocky was imprinted in a photo Rocky took, making him frown as he examined how the photo turned out._

_Rocky brushed it off, moving by it. After a while of taking pictures, Rocky changed back into his gi, making sure his number was safely pinned to his back. Then he sat aside, head lowered as he tried to block out the sounds around him, focusing on his upcoming fight. Colt and Tum-Tum sat nearby. While Tum-Tum talked animatedly to fellow contestants, Colt had earbuds in his ears, listening to some sort of rock music, face etched in an expression of deep concentration._

_Pressing his palms through his eyes, Rocky focus on his upcoming match. The older guys would be first this time around. The nineteen-year-olds were finishing up their heat and it was an exciting match, judging by the sounds of the audience. He focused on the combination of moves he was going to do on his next opponent if things went a certain way._

_One plan and two backups._

_Always had to have a plan._

_Always had to think things through._

_Next thing he knew, he heard his name being called to set up on the mat. Once again, Rocky made sure his number was perfectly put in place, that his gi was tied around his waist, that he wasn't breaking any dress code of any kind. He lifted his chin in a slight nod when his name was called once more, blushing when he heard his family and friends the loudest of them all._

_He studied the boy across form him. Very tanned, dark hair. Muscles that strained against the sleeves of his gi. Rocky had watched his match before. He had a lot of outward strength against him. But his moves were predictable_.

That was it!

"Move."

Rocky pushed Colt out of the way and propelled himself backwards to his other desk. He plugged his camera into his laptop and pulled up the photo editing software he'd been using before. Colt, mumbling under his breath about kicking Rocky's ass if he were shoved again, came up behind him. Rocky ignored the baiting comment, knowing his brother was referring to his win at the ninja tournament once more, and rapidly scuttled through the pictures on his camera.

He was silent long enough for Colt to groan and asked, "_What _are you looking for?"

Rocky kept shifting through all the pictures, watching as the day unfolded before him. Pictures of the spectators and the competitors of the tournament throughout the day…and the man that had scowled at him as he took a picture.

As if he didn't want his picture taken.

Hand held up over his face as if he didn't want to be recognized.

And Rocky was sure that JJ Kilpatrick, one of Harding's goons, certainly didn't want to be identified by the boys he'd been defeated by before.

"Got him," Rocky declared.

Colt grinned, clapping his hand to Rocky's shoulder and shaking him. Then grinned to Tum-Tum over his shoulder. "Nice one."

Tum-Tum beamed at the praise.

Rocky smiled and pulled his phone from his desk. He quickly navigated to his text messages and brought up all the numbers he needed, sending out a blast message. When Colt's and Tum-Tum's phones blared, signaling they received the message as well, he put his phone down with a satisfied smile.

Harding's empire was about to fall.


	25. Conversations

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

* * *

Rocky slowed to a stop, waiting for the cars to pass him on the street. He pressed his hands to his hips, sucking in a deep breath to steady his heart rate. Music blared through the earbuds nestled in his ears, but he hardly paid attention to it. Needed to be careful, to be aware of his surroundings as he went. He'd heard too many times of people who hadn't been paying attention and became hit by a car because of their music. And had _seen _one too many times where Colt would narrowly move out of the way of a car because he enjoyed his music too much on a run and come away from it with an annoyed expression as if the other person was in the wrong.

It was a lesson to learn, never get between Colt and his music.

Rocky turned aside, leaning over to look down the road as the stream of cars continued to pass. It took him a few seconds to realize he as staring intently at each car, trying to find JJ Kilpatrick inside. If he were brazen enough to attack them when they were young, and do so again when they were older, it was only a matter of time until he tried to outwardly attack them again. If Harding was willing to keep JJ around, then he must've done _something _right while Harding was in prison.

Rocky glanced up the road once more, then continued running when the coast was clear. He continued running, focusing on his breathing; in, out, in, out with each step. Made sure to match it, even when speeding up or slowing down. Did everything to keep his mind from drifting back toward the picture he'd found. Not that he really could think much of anything else; Harding was attacking the city through drugs, a much bigger thing than dumping toxic waste on native land.

That was harder to prove, let alone have people believe them. The toxic waste dumping was a business practice that was drowned out by the money exchanged between the mayor and other city officials so that Harding wasn't found out. Drug running, smuggling, whatever it was he was doing for a business this time…that would be much harder to prove, Rocky realized. Especially not without taking down Reed and the Jacksons with him.

That was the part Rocky couldn't quite wrap his head around, the guilt coming to him in waves the longer he thought about it. If, somehow, Harding had a contingency plan in place to make Reed the one to take the blame, his whole family would be caught in the crossfire.

_Not that they aren't already, _Rocky reminded himself. Part of him was surprised how quickly they declared they'd work along with himself and his brothers to take down Harding, but if the tables were turned, Rocky wouldn't hesitate to do the same. And had done it before, with Jo. Why would this time be any different?

He hadn't come up with an answer by the time he reached Jason's house then dropped it from his mind. Compartmentalized it with everything he was trying not to think about, the list seeming to grow longer as the days went on. He went up the front steps and let himself inside, knowing it'd be unlocked, and promptly jumped a mile high when there was a loud blaring sound right next to his ear.

Rocky whipped around and punched in the four-digit code that immediately ceased the alarm. Eyebrows rising in annoyance, Rocky examined the punch pad of the security next to him. He tilted his head, trying to figure out what, about it, was driving him crazy, before he heard footsteps behind him. He looked over his shoulder to find Jason casually walking past him toward the kitchen.

"Shower's empty," Jason said, and kept going. Instead, Rocky followed him. Jason went to the refrigerator and opened the door. He opened it only far enough to reach his hand int and pull out to two water bottles, not enough for Rocky to see—that he assumed—was a completely empty fridge. "Did you run all the way here?" He handed a bottle to Rocky, who took it gratefully.

"Yeah," Rocky replied after taking a long, long gulp, emptying half the bottle. He wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, then drew it across his forehead to remove the residual sweat. "I didn't plan on it, I just went running and ended up here."

Jason lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not Emily, Sam, you don't have to lie about it." He waved a hand. "Or start off with that romantic comedy crap where you pretend that you weren't looking for someone when you were and pretend that you just so happened to bump into each other. It takes a lot more than that to woo me." He paused. "A steak dinner would probably do it."

Rocky laughed. It ceased when he heard Jason's stomach growl. Then he grew serious once more, placing the water bottle on the counter and looking his best friend in the eye. "You were right, you know?"

"I'm right about a lot of things," Jason pointed out. He lifted his thumb and started to count, "I was right when I said people could make money off Instagram. I was right when I said people could make money off video games." He made a face. "I might not have been right when I said people could make cars run off water and I'm sorry about the time I almost killed us with a chemical bomb of ammonia and bleach, but my track record is iffy. Me being right was bound to come around again." He swirled his finger in the air. "It's a cycle."

Rocky found himself laughing. As nonsensical as Jason could be, he was always good for a long. Could always loosen Rocky up a little bit. Who else could get him to try office chair jousting just because he thought it sounded fun. And it was fun…until Jason ended up in the hospital with a broken rib and Rocky with a sprained shoulder. His father had yelled—spoken _loudly_—about how stupid it was as it would put him out of baseball season for a while. (It didn't he'd iced his shoulder for days and was back on the mound the next time practice came around).

"I meant you were right about me not being normal," he said. Then paused. "About being afraid of being normal."

"Oh that." Jason swatted a hand through the air. "I was just talking out of my ass, dude."

"No, you were telling me something I needed to hear," Rocky said. He took in a deep breath between his nose. "Or, saying what I've been thinking but couldn't say out loud. There's a lot that's gone on and I honestly don't know how to deal with it. Especially since you got caught up in things."

Jason raised an eyebrow. Then he nodded. "That guy running me off the road. Man, I just thought he was pissed because my accelerator sucks." He bobbed his head. "Which it does, that things been sticking."

Rocky took in a deep breath through his nose and tilted his head back. "You know that had nothing to do with you."

"Well, duh, Sam." Jason rolled his eyes. "I don't think anyone would have any reason to kill me. I'm normal. The only people I could possibly piss off that much are my mom and dad and you see how that works out. They're not here half the year and the other half they hardly pay attention to me." He added under his breath, "Couldn't even give me enough money for any damn food." Then he cleared his throat and said, "You could look at someone and they'd want to kill you. You just have that kind of face."

Rocky laughed again. "I'm trying to be serious, here."

"So'm I. Have you seen your face? You have a pretty punchable face." Rocky laughed again. "Man, I got used to this crap ages ago, from the stories I heard. I guess I just didn't get it until it I actually saw it." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And even then, I'm not mad about all this happening, I'm not even mad about what happened to my car, I can probably claim insurance on it."

Rocky snorted.

"I just don't like what it's doing to you. I'm just saying that you're fixating and you're freaking out. I'm your best friend, Sam. I know you. The more you can't figure things out, the more you hyper fixate. I watched you nearly drive yourself crazy to get a good grade in Chemistry when it's your worst subject."

It wasn't his worst subject, Rocky thought. He was actually pretty good at Chemistry. He just put too much pressure on himself and…froze. It was something he enjoyed, and went well into his thoughts of how much he'd probably enjoy botany, but something held him back.

"And I'm seeing it now. I get it's because you're worried about all of us and what's going on, but I think it goes deeper than that.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When was the last time you went to therapy?"

Rocky twisted his mouth to the side. Tilted his head as he turned his gaze to the ceiling. Took in a deep breath to steady himself, then realized, he didn't have to steady himself. Didn't have to focus. Talking to Jason was one of the few times he could really be open about anything in his life. And it wasn't like some sort of big revelation when Rocky admitted he went to therapy. Jason had asked if he wanted to play a game of pickup basketball and Rocky simply blurted out, "I have to go to therapy."

Jason simply shrugged and changed the subject.

And that was that.

Why were things with him so simple, so easy to say, when it was Jason, but so hard with everyone else?

"You're freaking out, dude," Jason continued.

Rocky tried and failed to change the subject. "If this has to do with the dance—"

"It _never _had to do with the dance, Sam. If you think I'm that shallow then you don't know me at all." He blinked rapidly. "Though I'm saying there's plenty of girls who'd like to go with you and I think I can spring us a limo, but that's not the point. You're my best friend and something's freaking you out."

"I'm 'freaking out' because Harding is out of prison and he's going to come after us and innocent people are getting in the way!" Rocky blurted. He counted on his fingers. "They attacked me and Riley. They attacked me and you. Jo got arrested. It's only a matter of time until they do something worse and that's all on me!"

Jason gave him a look.

"What?"

"Sam, that's not just on you," Jason pointed out. He pressed a hand to his chest. "It sure as hell, isn't going to be on me. But it's not just you, Jeff and Mike can help you out. And your grandpa, and your dad's the director of the FBI. Your family's freaking badass, but you're acting like this isn't going to work if you're not taking on everything yourself."

"I have to."

"Why?"

"Because then they'd have to handle this by themselves when I'm gone." Rocky blew out a long breath between his lips. "And it's not like I don't think they can, I know they can. Colt can really be a leader if he wants to be. I'm worried—"

"No, you're not. Jeff can take care of himself and Mike with his wrestling voodoo can snap someone like a twig."

Rocky ignored Jason, pushing himself to finish. "I'm worried that if I try to live my life, something bad is going to happen. That if I go anywhere but UCLA that I'll disappoint my mom and dad, that something will happen to grandpa and I'll have to handle the ninja training, that I won't live up to him, or…" he shook his head. "I don't know if I'm Rocky or Sam and having to decide is one of the hardest things I've ever had to deal with it. If you don't live in my family, you wouldn't get it."

"Sammy, I could only hope to have even a little bit of what your family is."

The conversation petered out from there. They never got much more emotional than that, talking a little bit about things, and then backing off before having to truly breakthrough into everything. Maybe that was the problem in and of itself, Rocky didn't really have anyone to talk to…or would let himself talk to. For a few minutes longer they talked about everything, but the explanation Rocky went to give that day.

Then Rocky went to leave, bringing his hand to the doorknob to exit. Rocky paused, brought his hand back. Suddenly, he realized what had bothered him so much about having arrived at Jason's house that day. He'd never heard the alarm make such a loud, long noise for any of the times he'd gone inside. He'd been there enough times that parents had given him the code fairly soon after they started their friendship and made a habit of just barging inside whenever he was there. (Jason tried that once and only once at the Douglas house, resulting in Sam yelling at the top of his lungs at Jason for breaking and entering and scaring them half to death. Jason always at least knocked twice before entering the house whenever he went). The house was always unalarmed unless they were about to go to sleep.

Even when Jason had the place to himself for as long as his parents were away, he didn't turn on the alarm until he was about to sleep. But that morning, Rocky had set off the alarm when he went through the front door, even though Jason was inside. He'd nearly been run off the road, and Rocky was sure it was the same car that Colt had been working on when he found the packet of drugs that was the biggest clue for them to find out what Harding was doing.

If Jason set the alarm, he was afraid of something happening.

Rocky pressed his lips together, dropped his hand from the doorknob and turned to face his best friend. "Pack a bag," he declared. "You're staying with us until your parents get back."

Normally, Jason would've protested. Would've waved a hand and said, "I'll be fine, dude, relax." Would've chuckled and asked, "Worried about me, Sammy?" or anything that would've made Rocky roll his eyes and laugh to himself before leaving the house.

This time, Jason nodded, seeming to understand everything Rocky wasn't saying, gave a grateful smile, and said, "Thanks, Sam."


	26. Comforts

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

* * *

Colt shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he dutifully trailed behind his mother from store to store. After a few trips to the auto parts store, the hardware store, and the bank, Colt was starting to become a little annoyed. At least the grocery store gave him the opportunity to talk her into buying some of his favorite foods—that he'd have to later hide form Tum-Tum—when he wasn't sneaking it into the cart.

It always made him smile with mischievous amusement when he used his sneaking skills to slide some of the junkiest junk food into the cart without her noticing, and then seeing the annoyed expression on her face when she saw it pass by on the scanner to be added to the total. Too late to put back. It was like tradition by that point, that he managed to do it, and she always turned the other cheek. A habit that kept him tied to easier times for the both of them, long before studying ninja meant saving the city on a nearly daily basis.

But as Colt followed his mother through the grocery store, watching as she'd look at something on the list she held, then would start to move through the aisles for what she was looking for, Colt sighed. He tipped his head back to heave the exasperation to the ceiling and nearly crashed into his mother, who had suddenly stopped walking before him.

"Am I boring you?" She asked, her voice holding an amused lilt to it.

Colt lowered his chin, smiling at her. "Not anymore than the rest of this trip has been," he quipped, while slowly reaching his hand up behind her head. He grasped a bag of chips and surreptitiously put them behind his back as they continued down the aisle, his mother rolling her eyes and continued to push the cart forward. He tucked it into the cart when her eyes roved over the shelves and her list once more. "You know there are things such as phones and apps that can handle this for you, right?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Not having to watch you and dad act like smartphones are an archaic language," Colt replied with a chuckle. Jessica glanced at him out the corner of his eye, a death glare that would've sent him running when he was a child.

"Hey, your father's the old one, not me!" She wagged a finger in the air as she continued moving. "I at least can figure out how to get my banking details and bills through my phone. Your father doesn't even know how to type a full sentence in a text without it taking five full minutes." She shook her head. "And being an FBI Director, that doesn't even compare to the suspicion he has on people living off their phones."

"Is that why he's always getting on our case about our phones all the time?"

"No, that's because he's worried you're just going to get you entrainment from your phones and not the world around you."

"Unbelievable. First he doesn't want us to run around outside like kids and learn ninja and now he's worried we're going to become dumb by our phones."

"I believe the word you're looking for is dumb_er_," Jessica teased. Colt rolled his eyes, shook his head, but continued to dutifully follow his mother around he store, grabbing things off the shelves that she couldn't reach or were too heavy for her to get.

He caught her eye, noticing her watching him when he heaved a particularly heavy bag of rice off a tall shelf. "What?" He asked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious below her gaze. He tossed the rice in the car, making everything violently jostle around. He winced, waiting for another one of his mother's famous 'behave yourself' gazes, but still found her looking at him. Anxiety rocked his gut. "Mom, what is it?"

It wasn't a secret to anyone in the Douglas family that Colt was closer to his mom, out of all his family members. From the day he was born, there was something about their relationship that couldn't be rivaled with anyone else. While Jessica had been close to her mother, Celia, even that couldn't hold a candle to her relationship with Colt. Colt was a temperamental baby, possibly even colicky, and Jessica was the only one who could soothe him. Sam became frustrated, even convinced his middle son didn't like him for nearly the first six months of his life, while he was a burbling baby for Jessica.

Even as he grew older and the points of his personality that reflected Sam's, which caused them to clash, Colt would then go to Jessica for comfort, which she was always quick to give, knowing just what to say to make him feel better. Even when as he grew older and sullener about things that confused him about life, he would find himself drawn to even simply sitting by his mother as she worked on dinner or the household bills and would feel better.

She listened to him and made it easy for him to be vulnerable with when the fancy struck him. While he could be a man of few words—when his sarcasm and snark didn't show—she allowed him space to talk simply by being there.

On the flipside, he always knew when she was lying, or when she was keeping things from him. Especially when it came to Snyder. He'd been young when things with him started out, but he still remembered that fateful night when he was hanging out in his father's office and she'd found him there, sulking and unsure how to speak of his concerns of Snyder and how close he was to Mori. How he didn't know how to tell his mother that her father may know an evil man.

He remembered how soft, how gentle her voice had been when she found him in his father's office. An are that was always off-limits to him and his brothers because of the confidential files for his cases that may be scattered around. Saw the concern in her eyes when he asked where his father was.

"He's working late again on his case, honey. I'm going to meet him right now," she'd replied, using that soothing tone she always used when trying to keep her husband and sons in a better mindset.

Colt took in a deep breath and asked about the question that'd been on his mind all day. It was hard to miss the tension between his father and grandfather as the years passed, it seemed to have gotten worse in only the few moments it took for him and his brothers to spill their guts about their new ninja names and training they'd gotten that summer. "Is he going to tell grandpa not to teach us anymore?"

And Colt had paused, waiting for his mother to confirm or deny what he knew to be inevitable. Instead, she turned her head away, focusing on putting an earring in her ear to say, "Honey, we'll see, okay? Dad's been pretty upset about his work and I don't think this is the best time to ask him."

He saw she was lying then. She had an idea of what was going on, he'd probably already told her he didn't want them to see each other anymore and she was trying to convince him to change his mind. It'd be as heartbreaking for her as it would be for the rest of the family if she didn't see her father as much. She'd always been a daddy's girl but since his grandmother passed away…

"Nothing, I just keep forgetting how old you're getting," Jessica replied. Her voice turned soft wistful. "Soon you're going to be gone, too. Off to college like Rocky is."

Colt shrugged. "You'll have Tum-Tum." He paused for a fraction of a second. "Well, that's not some huge prize, but you'll have someone."

Jessica swatted him on the arm. "I just mean I didn't really realize how fast time is moving. Next thing I know, you're going to get married."

"I thought you gave up on me and Jo a while ago." How many times had his whole family teased him for his relationship with Jo? Going so far as to say they would get married was a bit of a stretch, he could admit. But even he didn't think he'd like anyone more than Jo by that point. Youthful infatuation and all that.

"I did, I'm just saying it's going to happen sooner than anyone could ever imagine. Life moves quickly, and there's always chances for opportunities and experiences you may regret not taking." Jessica turned away, pretending to read the boxes of the wall of cereal sitting before them.

Colt moved up to her side, studying the side of her face. It took only one pass to notice the way her eyes briefly crinkled at the corners, an involuntary movement she made when trying to keep from letting anyone know what she was really thinking. Colt was sure he was the only one who noticed that about her.

"What's going on, mom?" He paused, for a fraction of a second. Already had an idea of what it was. The elephant in the room that hadn't been spoken of since their father had busted them at MedoCal. They acted like it didn't happen, it helped that Sam was out for work more often than he was home. But even Jessica—who Colt knew for a fact knew what'd happened—didn't say anything. She simply warned the boys to be careful of where they went, but hadn't said much about it further. Though that didn't eman Colt didn't notice the looks they gave each other when they were around each other for more than a few minutes. "Does this have to do with what's going on with MedoCal?" He asked, as blunt as ever. The way his mother's mouth tightened proved he was right. "Mom…"

"We just want you to be safe," Jessica said quickly.

"How can we be safe if you're not telling us everything we need to know?" Colt felt his temper flare within seconds and took a deep breath to keep from totally unleashing on his mother. Especially knowing he was being a hypocrite, not telling her what he and his brothers had found out about who was after them. _It's just as well, _Colt thought, trying to reassure himself. _She didn't tell us about grandpa knowing Snyder and that dad was investigating him. _

Jessica planted her hands on her hips, looking at her son firmly. "Colt, one day you're going to realize that, as a parent, there's always going to be some things you don't discuss with your children." Colt opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by his mother. He closed his mouth and folded his arms, frowning like a petulant child. "And you're just going to have to accept that."

"Are we in danger?" He asked. "That's all I want to know. Are we in danger? And if so, how much? Snyder was directly coming after us but…" He shrugged, working to figure out how much to say and how much his mother knew. His father's work life was confidential, but that didn't mean anything to the harsh whispered and hushed conversations that came about when there were especially big cases he was working on that kept him from him. "Harding doesn't seem like he's coming after _us _especially, but more that we got caught up in it."

Jessica gave a humorless smile. "Isn't that how it always happens?"

"More or less."

Jessica let out a long sigh. She tucked some hair behind her ears, closed her eyes for a long moment. "All I can say is…sometimes your father and I disagree on the ways we want to raise you boys." She ignored Colt's mumble of, "You got that right," and kept going. "But one of the things we _do _agree on in this case is that you need to be careful of the people you hang out with."

Colt lifted an eyebrow, studied his mother in surprise. He couldn't ever remember his mother saying a bad word about the people they hung out with. Even when he drifted apart from his childhood best friend, Thomas, a five-year old boy who'd come from such a bad home life that it started to show out in his aggressive behaviors, Jessica spoke well of him.

_Now, _she was changing her mind?

"Is this about the Jacksons?" He asked. "Mom, you're best friends with their mom. You have lunch dates almost every day!"

"I know," Jessica agreed.

She sighed quietly, in a way that made Colt suddenly feel badly for her. He couldn't remember the last time his mother had a good friend to confide in, someone outside of the family. Not since her mother died. Since then she focused a lot of her time on her family, cutting back on hours at the office so that she could be there for everything they needed. There were only so many times invitations to go out could be turned down before they stopped all together.

As a young child, Colt didn't really get it, but loved having his mother around more often. Now that he was older, he started to get it more. His parents were people and had their own lives. But to give a double-standard.

"And there are some things that aren't going to make sense to you until you're older," Jessica continued. "But I'm in the same boat as you, in what your father wants." She paused, looking like she wanted to say something else then simply shrugged. "I'm just saying be careful. That's what I'm doing."

"You don't think they're part of it do you?" Colt licked his lips. "What did dad say?"

Jessica shook her head, smiled apologetically. "I can't share that with you, honey. There are many things about this that are confidential, things that I don't even know. All I can say is that there are things that we're worried about and we want you boys to be safe."

Colt turned his gaze toward the ceiling and nodded. There wasn't much point to press even further on the conversation. That wasn't even the point of having gone shopping with her that day. Jessica seemed to understand Colt's unspoken frustration and gently rubbed his shoulder.

"You know, people always say you're a lot like your father, but I like to think that you've taken a lot from me, too," she said. "Especially your want in trying to see the good in others. Wanting to help people. Your father does it too, but in a more forceful way. I like to think that you take more after me."

Colt positively smiled at that. "You know, I've always been curious." Jessica nodded for him to continue. "You named Rocky after dad, and he's like his mini-me. If I were a girl would I have been a Jessica, too?"

Jessica let out an unladylike snort. "Are you kidding? Do you know what others would've thought of us had we named both of our children after ourselves?"

"I don't know. Do you know what they think of you for having three ninja kids?"

"You would've _at least _been a Jessie." Jessica looped an arm around her middle son's neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Colt blushed and angled his head away, although didn't wipe away the sign of affection, which pleased her. Her middle son was one who was hot and cold to affection from others, but always seemed to have more than a soft spot for her. "Maybe now you can tell me the truth about something."

"What's that?"

"Usually you hate shopping more than life itself and yet you agreed to come with me today. Why?"

Looking away, Colt shrugged. "I need some more pants." Then he smiled, hearing his mother's chuckle.

* * *

Tum-Tum sniffed loudly, wrinkled his nose, then sneezed, scattering loose potting soil all over the back porch of the Douglas house. He narrowed his eyes at his grandfather, who laughed a wheezing laugh, dusting dirt particles off his gloves beside him.

Lifting a hand, Tum-Tum rubbed at his nose then pouted towards his grandfather. "It's not funny. This stuff gets everywhere." He dusted his hands off on the front of his jeans, frowning when he saw the marring of the dirt that's smeared it. Tum-Tum wasn't one who cared too much about his appearance. But his discovery of girls had made it something that stuck in the back of his mind.

When looking at previous pictures, when he clearly had a weight problem, it always made him a little mad. Yes, his parents instilled in him a life where he cared more about having fun and enjoying his childhood than other things like that. But how could they continue to let him gain weight and not realize it was a problem?

It was his grandfather who sat him down and asked if he was having trouble sleeping? If he had moments of anxiety—described in more kid-friendly terms—if he had nightmares, if he suddenly had any pain anywhere. More importantly, he asked why Tum-Tum was eating so much. He had a normal, healthy appetite for a kid his age beforehand, had an affinity for sweets, but it wasn't until he was point blank asked why he ate so much, and saw the look on his mother's face, that he realized there might be something wrong.

PTSD.

A real fancy way of saying the night Snyder had kidnapped him and his brothers had taken more of a toll on him than he'd thought. Emotional eating, was always what he'd been told, that he'd been an emotional eater for a time before the 'incident'. That he'd been an emotional eater because he used food and eating as a means to hide the pain he felt with his father being absent so long covering tough cases.

The therapist had asked how Tum-Tum felt about his grandfather giving him his ninja name, linking the happiness and excitement over it, for a father figure that'd been there more than his own father had been. Now, said father figure was laughing at him as he'd accidentally snorted a little bit of potting soil.

"It's quite funny," Mori declared. He pressed his hands to his knees and shakily got to his feet. "I should've warned you. Time caring for the Earth, for Nature…it can be backbreaking work, it leaves it's mark on you." He picked up a potted plant, tightly clutching it in his grasp. "Though I'm sure you can change before any of those little girls notice."

Tum-Tum felt his cheeks flush. He lowered his chin, picking up a spade and gently poked it into the potted plant beside him. His grandfather had always been observant, always knew when Tum-Tum was up to something before having done whatever he'd thought of. Part of him was sure Rocky's and Colt's antics had wisened his grandfather to every trick in the book, but that didn't stop his own mischievous streak. He giggled quietly to himself whenever his grandfather would open the fridge every morning and find more food gone despite how careful he was to keep an eye on the boys' eating habits.

But to go as far as that?

It was only a little embarrassing because no one else talked to him about it. Rocky and Colt teased him at times, Sam and Jessica made mild comments of "when he'd become more interested in girls than video games." But it was Mori who truly noticed the youngest Douglas boy. It worked out; Sam had Rocky, Jessica had Colt, and Mori had the baby of the family. And that was perfectly fine with Tum-Tum.

"Is that why you like to work on the garden so much?" Tum-Tum asked.

Mori shrugged. He walked to the holes dug in the ground of the backyard, started to poke at them with the spade. Preparing the Earth for the plants he was about to put in. He smiled wistfully. "I like to work in the garden because—"

"—You're old?" Tum-Tum broke in. Mori laughed. "What? Isn't this what all old people do? Garden and play Bingo?"

Mori cast him a slightly annoyed look. "When was the last time you saw me play Bingo?"

"Wasn't that when dad broke his arm?"

Tum-Tum still laughed over the memory of his family getting so into Bingo that it resulted in his father, so frustrated after losing so many rounds of Bingo, that he was so excited to finally win that he leapt up and created some sort of a chain reaction that flipped the table over and resulted in a broken arm. They were sworn to secrecy of the real reason of his injury to any of his co-workers but teased him mercilessly for months in their own home.

"No, it's for your grandmother," Mori said. "Celia absolutely loved her garden and I can only hope to keep it going no matter where I go." He straightened and backed toward the porch where Tum-Tum continued to dust himself off. "It also keeps my connection with nature. A ninja can always use his environment to help him, but he has to keep the peace between his spirit and the spirit of the Earth."

"What do you mean?" Tum-Tum gazed up at him.

"The spirit of the Earth works to keep the spirit of the body unified. There are those that say the full moon and the pull of the tide is what causes others to make some interesting and out of character choices. But it is due to the spirits not connecting that is the problem." Mori stood over Tum-Tum, gaze sweeping over the plants before him. "Do you remember what I told you about flowers speaking to us?"

"Yes, they tell us to do things because we should, not because we expect attention," Tum-Tum replied. He squinted up at his grandfather. "That's what it means, right?"

"Yes, Tum-Tum, that's what it means. But it's not the only lesson a flower can teach you." Mori continued to watch as the flowers gently fluttered among the afternoon breeze. "If you listen closely, you can have whole conversations with the flowers. They're thankful for everything we do for them, for the watering and nurturing we give them, which in turn makes them stretch their roots and bloom for us. Giving us a masterpiece to behold. But it's not all they do, they bring nutrients to the Earth, bring other animals and insects that have a place in our lives."

Tum-Tum stood up, folding his arms. "'You mean like a Circle of Life thing?" He tipped his head to the side. "I hate to break it to you, grandpa, but _Lion King _did that first."

"No, no." Mori chuckled. "Specifically speaking, planting can create enhanced emotional wellbeing, and is a gentle form of exercise for my old bones. But anyone, any ninja, can benefit from the meditation and peace of mind it brings. It can make tough decisions clearer, allow you to _see _things more clearly. And most importantly, allow a ninja to understand and identify that little things can make a big impact." He smiled at Tum-Tum. "Just like you."

"Yeah, right," Tum-Tum replied skeptically.

Mori nodded. Aa single nod that held the weight of the world. "Ninja or not, you're destined for great things, Tum-Tum. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He thought for a moment. "You have a different love for ninja and life that'll benefit you in the long run. You haven't become as jaded as they have. And I hope that, even when I'm gone, that never changes."

Tum-Tum glanced at his grandfather out the corner of his eye. He didn't look any different than he always had, a smaller man who many thought to be an easy target. _Boy were they ever wrong, _Tum-Tum thought, always grinning when someone underestimated him and then got their ass kicked. _And rightfully so. _Nevertheless, within those few seconds, Tum-Tum noticed just hold old his grandfather looked. When they'd met Jo, when Tum-Tum was eleven or twelve, his grandfather had already been 63. Now years later…

Tum-Tum shook his head. He didn't want to think about it.

"Is there anything you'd like to do, grandpa?" Tum-Tum asked. "Other than gardening, I mean? You go to the doctor so much, I bet that's started to get boring." A sour look came to Mori's face, making Tum-Tum laugh. "You let me garden with you…let me teach you something." Tum-Tum's eyes lit up. "Let me show you some of my wrestling moves, grandpa! It's kind of like ninja!"

Mori chuckled to himself. He reached out his hand, placing it on Tum-Tum's head. "Ohh, Little One," he rasped, using the special nickname he'd bestowed on his youngest grandson since his birth. "I may be old, but I'm not stupid."

Tum-Tum laughed, throwing his arms around his grandfather in a hug.

* * *

Rocky gently closed his bedroom door behind him as he slipped out, making a tiny face when he heard Jason's loud snore from within. He'd gotten used to it from the times he stayed at the Cross house, but Jason's room, being an only child, was much bigger than his, dissipating the sound. But he could spend a few nights with a loud snore, he'd grown up with Tum-Tum who snored like a monster truck. Who, for a long time as a little kid, would crawl from his bed and stand over Rocky to quietly ask, "Can I sleep with you?" when he had a bad dream.

Would never go to Colt as he was afraid to climb the ladder in the dark, refused to try the trampoline, thinking he'd smack into the side of the bunk beds, and didn't want to be kicked out of Colt's bed in the middle of the night with how much he trashed around.

Not that Rocky hadn't endured it either, when Colt was moved into his room from what was going to be the nursey when their mother was pregnant with Tum-Tum. The first few nights, Colt would adamantly refuse to get into Rocky's bed despite how scared he was, audibly mumbling and whimpering from his bad dreams. Eventually he broke down and quietly shoved Rock over so that he could get in bed next to him, to calm himself down.

Rocky wouldn't do that for Jason, but he was at least glad he was able to give him a place to sleep and stay safe. Harding was a businessman before anything else, he wouldn't be so stupid to try and take out the Douglas family when they were onto him.

_I hope not, _Rocky thought, silently moving through the darkened house. Everyone had gone to bed ages ago after a night filled with laughter and loud conversations, which was normal with Jason's presence. It helped that they tried to talk about everything that didn't have to deal with Harding, MedoCal, and his parents, though Rocky did notice the look his parents exchanged when Rocky explained why he was going to stay.

Now, Rocky quietly moved down the stairs and into the kitchen, enjoying a few moments of silence. Until he passed through to the kitchen and spotted his father at the table, a carton of ice cream in front of him and a spoon hanging from his mouth. Sam started when he spotted his eldest son and coughed, spitting the spoon from his mouth where it loudly clattered onto the table.

"Hey dad," Rocky greeted him casually. He went to the refrigerator, grabbed a water bottle, and walked back to his dad. "What are you doing up?"

"Getting scared half to death, apparently," Sam replied, finally catching his breath.

The side of Rocky's mouth turned up. "You didn't hear me coming?" He sat down across from his father, folding his arms.

Sam leveled him with a long look. He picked up his spoon and repeatedly pressed it into the top of the ice cream, where a few bites had already been taken out. Rocky glanced at the flavor, his nose wrinkling. He didn't know anyone but his father to enjoy Rum Raisin, and even then it was something he ate in times of high stress more than as a treat for his sweet tooth. "I haven't heard you boys coming since you started training with your grandfather."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Only when I knew you were up to something and couldn't quite see it coming." Rocky laughed quietly. Sam lifted his chin, taking another bite of ice cream. "How's Jason doing? He practically inhaled dinner today." Rocky shot him a look, making Sam bob his head back and forth in agreement. "I know, not much different than the way he usually is. I could never figure it out if it was because he's always hungry or if he just has an appetite. He ate the same way at breakfast after our baseball games."

"_That _was because he doesn't particularly like his mom's breakfast experiments," Rocky reminded him. He slid low in his seat, running a hand through his hair. "As for everything else, you know the reason why." Sam sighed. "And you know he's not going to take any help. I already went over this with mom."

"There's only so many times I can talk to his parents, talk to the local authorities." Sam shook his head. "It is neglect, but only in the basic way. They're never gone for too long, when they've got their business, just do it multiple times a year. They leave him with food. He's eighteen years old and can be by himself for at least a week." He shook his head. "I can't imagine being a parent and not being there for you guys." Rocky, who was taking a sip from his water bottle, averted his gaze from his father. Didn't want to open that can of worms. His action betrayed him more than he thought or wanted, as Sam sighed gently, lowering his head. "I know, growing up, I haven't been there for a lot—"

"—It's okay, dad," Rocky reassured him.

Sam continued as if Rocky hadn't spoken. "But I make sure to be there in other ways. And seeing how you boys have grown up, along with the help of your mother and grandfather, I can only be glad. If not a little disappointed I couldn't be there more."

"You were there enough." It was hard for Rocky to get those words out, unsure, even subconsciously, if he were lying. Or hurting his dad by saying so. But that was the point of being the oldest wasn't it? Keeping the peace. Letting them hear what they wanted to hear. He had to set the example, be the bigger person. "And, like you said, you had mom and grandpa to help so…"

Sam nodded. His pursed his lips, twisted his mouth to the side in a move that was very much like one Rocky would do. It made him smile a little. "So, what brings you down here?"

"Jason's snoring," Rocky said quickly. "What about you?"

"Oh, I haven't had a good night's sleep in years," Sam replied with a wave of his hand. He brought it up to run at his mustache. "The nature of the job. I've been trained to notice everything, so every slight sound has me up. Let me tell you, that doesn't bode well with moving houses so much. All the settling of the foundation, getting used to the house's new personality."

Rocky lifted an eyebrow. "Houses have personalities?"

"Everything has a personality if you look for it." Sam smiled, noticing his eldest son's chuckling. "What's so funny?"

"You sounded a little like grandpa."

"Oh. I got a little ninja proverb in there."

"I'm not so sure it's very ninja-like, but it's up there."

Silence stretched between the two of them. Sam leaned back in his seat, letting out a long breath and rubbing at his eyes. He tipped his head back to look at the shadow covered ceiling and finally said. "Your grandpa was telling me that you may take over the ninja training from him soon." Rocky shrugged. "Have you thought more of it?"

"Not really," Rocky hedged. "I have too much other stuff going on right now. And, you know, tests and stuff." He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head.

"I think you'd do a great job with it," Sam said honestly.

Surprised, Rocky looked his father in the eye. His eyebrows pinched together. This coming from the man who wanted everything ninja related banned from their house. From the man who confiscated all their weapons they carefully hid that their grandfather had given them? The same man who'd demanded to their grandfather after their penultimate summer, "It's bad enough he's got you doing karate all summer, you need new names, too?"

Sure, he'd lessened his hatred over the training years ago, but that didn't lessen his worry. And Rocky knew everything his father had against it was stemmed from worry.

"You've got the head for it. The patience. The experience. Even if you don't teach your brothers, I'm sure you could start something at UCLA if they don't have it already."

Rocky's heart sank at that. A reminder he still needed to put more focus on his applications. The blank applications that'd been sitting on his desk for who knows how long. His biggest obstacle at that pint was deciding whether to apply Early Action, Early Decision, or Regular Decision. As far as his parents knew, he was going to apply to UCLA and needed his application ready by November—a few short months away. But if he wanted to go to Washington State he had until January, but if he got accepted, he _had _to go to WSU and that wasn't without doing the SAT and ACT and…

His head was starting to hurt. It hurt even more when his father added, "I'm sure your grandfather would enjoy that."

Rocky licked his lips, squashed the crushing feeling that slowly grew, and pasted on a smile, his facial muscles moving automatically. "Yeah, I guess," he said noncommitting, anything to give an idea of his agreement to the scenario that'd continuously been laid out practically since he was born, while not revealing his true feelings on it.

"There's not a lot of time left until you leave."

"I don't leave until August."

"It'll go by faster than you think. And I don't want you to get bogged down by all this extra stuff." Sam waved his hand, gesturing vaguely to the side. "I want you to be safe, but I want you to stay focused."

Rocky nodded. _Stay safe, like stay away from the only people who can figure out what's going on? _He thought. _Stay away from the people you absolutely hate. _He pressed his lips together. Nodded again.

"But just because you need to focus doesn't mean you can't have fun," Sam continued. He smiled, passing the pint of ice cream back and forth between his hands. A habit Rocky had seen years ago, his father was unable to sit still for very long periods of time, especially when he was working to make someone he was interrogating nervous. "It's your last year of school, remember to have some fun." He thought for a moment. "Why don't I take you guys to the gun range again soon? We haven't been there in a while and it's always a lot of fun, right?"

"Right." Rocky grinned. "That sounds really cool, dad."

Sam smiled and nodded back. He took one last bite of ice cream and passed the spoon and pint to Rocky. Rocky took a bite and made a face, prompting his father to chuckle.

Still wasn't his favorite.


	27. Rendevous

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

* * *

Harding clamped his teeth down around his cigar, muscles relaxing as the first shot of nicotine filled is body. Smoking didn't work for him as much as it used to, all that time in prison with some makeshift and second-hand cigarettes was enough to dull the things it did to him. Getting it straight from the source was the best way, he determined. All that crappy shit that he wasn't sure he was bringing into his lungs all the while men stood around him, waiting to determine whether he'd look at them funny enough for a shiv to the ribs had done enough to dull anything a regular cigarette could do.

Besides, he didn't like the way cigarette smoke smelled. Cigar smoke, now, that was a deep, earthy smell. A many smell. A smell he didn't mind seeping into everything that came and went through his apartment.

So much so that he watched as JJ's eyes water, watched him shift uncomfortable and subtly cough, waving a hand in front of his face when Harding came too close to him. Harding continued to pace the floor of his apartment, breathing a ring of smoke into JJ's face every now and then. Finally, he gave JJ a break, stamping out his cigar in a ash tray and opened a window to blow it out. He just needed the nicotine anyway.

"So?" Harding barked, finally opening his jaws to allow the emptied cigar to drop out. It plopped onto the ash tray and he idly tapped it into the bottom of the ash tray. "What do you got for me?"

JJ swallowed hard. He clasped his hands in his lap. "They're starting to figure things out, boss." Harding lifted an eyebrow and JJ continued, nodding earnestly. "They know that we're pushing drugs. That we're not sending out everything we said we would."

"We?" Harding snorted. "Who's we?" He folded his arms, looking down on the streets below him.

At the drug dealers on the corner. The ones who'd given him the idea in the first place. Drug dealers were everywhere, they weren't always hooded figures waiting around corners for the unsuspecting person to come about.

No, they were cunning men and women. Knew their connections and knew how to hide it. Knew how to do everything in person and under less than suspicious circumstances that those around them didn't have to worry about being picked up by anyone. They were the men in the best suits who made more than enough of their living through the means of passing illegal substances on the streets. They were the college students who needed a 'pick me up' to keep studying for their exams.

They were the high school students who wanted to do something daring, to set themselves apart, who wanted an 'upper' to keep from having to feel the 'downs' of a regular day of school. They were the jocks who worked through the pain of harsh plays that threatened to end their season but they had to keep going. They were the girls who just wanted some pocket change to spend on some of the newest clothes and items to support their favorite celebrities and influencers.

Harding rolled his eyes. Influencers. How moronic. People who sat around recording themselves on video and not putting any sort of substance in the world were the ones who were getting all the money? How much time had changed while he was in prison? Before he was taken away, a business was a business. Supply and demand was a thing and good and money were exchanged. What was sticking his face all over video cameras and computer screens going to do?

"I haven't been doing anything."

"But it's only a matter of time until they recognize me," JJ insisted, clasping his hands to his chest. His lower jaw trembled at the thought.

Harding's gaze shifted toward JJ but he didn't say anything right away. The corner of his mouth curled, showing off his teeth. As if he were clamping down on another cigar, though there wasn't one in sight. "Who can forget your ugly mug?" Finally, Harding turned back to JJ, placing his hands on his hips. He scratched at the side of his neck and sucked in a deep breath. "You're overreacting."

"I'm the one who's being smart about this! Those kids…those _monsters _are going to find us and they're going to do even more than have our business fail and send us to prison."

Harding's face slowly started to turn ghastly. The strongest of the strong glares that had JJ cowering into the couch, picking up a pillow to hold in front of him for protection. Harding sucked in a deep breath through his nose. "I'm the only one who went to prison! You don't know the kind of hell it was!"

"Then why are you willing to go back?"

Harding grabbed JJ by the lapel and lifted him to his feet with a sharp tug of his collar. JJ gulped loudly, his face coming close to his uncle's. He'd always been close to his uncle, but even that was too close for comfort. Having Jack mad at him was worse than disappointing his mother, and considering his mother had to be a sibling to Jack, he suddenly felt a surge of admiration for her.

Rather than pummeling JJ to a bloody pulp, Harding simply dropped JJ back to his feet, brushing off the shoulders of JJ's shirt. "Money, my boy," he replied. "It's all about the money. I don't know if you've noticed, but money makes the world go round. You can't do anything without money. Hell," he waved a hand, "It was money that kept all my businesses going while I was in prison. Money that helped me bribe those city officials to get those damn Indians out of my way all those years ago. Drug dealing is as lucrative as any other business."

"And what are you going to do about those boys?" JJ asked. Harding lifted an eyebrow. "Like I said, they're getting closer. I know it. I can tell. I'm being followed everywhere I go. It's only a matter of time until they figure out everything. They were at MedoCal, they aided the protest, they got their father after us."

"Their father was already after me," Harding said sarcastically. "Ever since I was sent to prison and my name was plastered all across those newspapers." He sniffed loudly. "Sam Douglas and this kids, Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum." He snorted quietly. "Who in their right mind would name their kids that?" Jack ran a hand through his hair, then brought his hand up to tap against his lips.

JJ waited silently for what they were going to do.

Harding pursed his lips and darted his gaze around the corners of the dilapidated apartment. At the run down, rat infested, mold covered apartment that they'd been living in since he'd silently and quietly put himself back into LA's streets. Sure, he never did his own dealings, just took in the money for it. Had the connections that would make anyone who tried to oppose him tremble in fear from simply hearing his name.

So why was he waiting?

Why was he letting people get closer and act like he didn't have a ace in the hole? A trick up his sleeve? A failsafe in case anything became too close. That point seemed to be staring him in the face, with everything closing in on all sides; even his neighbors were starting to look at him funny. If those snot-nosed brats were starting to figure things out with MedoCal, it wouldn't be long before it came out in the press, got to police ears.

And he planned on being long gone by then. Just has a few loose ends to tie up.

A few people to talk to.

Harding reached out his hand once more. JJ flinched and backed up a step, then relaxed, seeing his uncle wasn't about to strike him or threaten him once more. No, that time Harding gently grasped his nephew's shoulder and said in a voice roaring with pride, "Pack em' up, boy! We're heading out of here!"

And he released JJ's shoulder, heading toward the door, lighting up another cigar as he went. The smoke billowed around him as he took in a deep breath, sighing when the nicotine hit him one more. Maybe he was starting to become addicted to those things.

"So, uh, what are you going to do, boss?" JJ asked from behind him. "While I'm getting all this packed up?"

"I've got a friend I need to see." Harding slipped out of the apartment and headed down to the street. The second he made it outside the apartment two things became evident to him; first and foremost that things were much quieter than they had been before. And that there was someone watching him.

Harding knew exactly who it was.

There was only one person…one faction of people, Harding knew who would make a lively neighborhood scatter like mice. Harding sniffed loudly through his nose, hocked, and spat on the sidewalk, being sure to remove his cigar from his mouth, before sauntering over to the nondescript car that sat parked at the far end of the street.

Harding walked right up and knocked on the window. He stood back as the door opened and Sam Douglas unfolded himself, staring at Harding as he did so. Harding slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks and said around his cigar, "Douglas. We need to talk."

"Yes, we do," Sam replied.


	28. The Midnight Society I

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

* * *

"I have to say you're doing a great job in class, Samuel," Mrs. Kubrick said, folding her arms as she leaned back in her seat.

She nodded to the paper that sat between them on her desk. Rocky barely glanced at it, knowing and recognizing it was his _Scarlett Letter _essay. He'd been surprised he managed to do well. His homework had been in the back of his mind, working to finish reading on time, finish all the excess homework in that and his AP Government class, do well on the timed essays within class, and juggle all of that, his baseball practices, ninja training, and chores.

Anything to keep his parents from asking questions or looking at him with worry when they'd suddenly break off conversation when he and his brothers came around. They didn't say anything more about what happened at MedoCal, though Sam did apologize for the way he'd embarrassed his sons when having followed the into the building. (He was quick to remind them that what they'd done was stupid and dangerous, grounding them for the weekend when he was finally at home long enough to address it). That was the other thing that hadn't changed much, Rocky realized. They continuously asked about school; how classes were going, how their grades were, how their friends were doing, SATs, college applications…

Everything that made Rocky's head want to explode from the stress but kept him motivated and moving forward. Eyes on the prize, as it were. If the prize was figuring out what Harding was doing to his school—and potentially the city—and stopping it were the prize, then it was all he cared about.

But it was the role he had to play. One half being the 'normal' teenager who juggled all his classes and college applications, and the other half being the 'ninja' side that was working to unravel a mystery. But as he sat in the chair across from his teacher, he worked hard to keep his gaze from darting over toward the classroom door, fingertips tapping against the desktop as he counted down the seconds to the meeting being over.

His gaze flickered back towards Mrs. Kubrick and he allowed a smile of pride to come to his face. Mrs. Kubrick nodded at his smile and said, "You've got a lot of potential considering your responses to some of the essay questions we've had." She folded her hands together. "Have you thought much about getting a degree in English?"

Rocky lifted an eyebrow, tearing his gaze away from the classroom door. Then his face twisted into an expression of confusion. It took him a second to keep up with the conversation topic. He knew from the grade he'd received and the want to speak after class that he'd done very well, but to ask if he wanted to get a degree in it? It'd never crossed his mind.

Not much more than his parents' want for him to go into pre-law. If anything, as much as he liked to read for fun, that wasn't what was leading him. His science classes, biology, chemistry, held his attention ore than anything else. Maybe it was from the single conversation he'd had with the older medicine woman about the flowers she was harvesting and how to use its healing properties for her family so long ago. Or maybe it was the simple want to do anything that wasn't bestowed upon him that drew him forward.

Of course, there was also the pull of psychology, that he'd explained to Ms. Lourd. He always liked the idea of psychology, to getting into other people's heads and learning their motivations. Understanding people enough to help them. That'd always been interesting to him. Even more so when he worked to figure out what it was that Snyder was dealing with to want to take down his father so badly, bad enough to kidnap his kids. It seemed to be more than a grudge of his plans being taken down by the FBI, and even more so than the want to get back at a former teacher and business partner who wouldn't help him when asked.

That want to understand grew as their adventures passed; was it really revenge that pushed Koga forward, was it truly greed that made Harding want to kill to make money (and come back to potentially do it again), was Medusa really that ego-centric?

Nevertheless, Rocky couldn't control the surprise that registered on his face at Mrs. Kubrick's suggestion for his future. "I see you haven't thought much about it," Mrs. Kubrick said with a light chuckle. "There're a lot of options for you, moving forward. I've spoke to your other teachers and seeing your grades over the past few years, you could go and do whatever it is you wanted."

"That's what Mrs. Lourd was telling me," Rocky agreed. "That there were a lot of options for me. For colleges and classes."

"Even more so, once they see all your extra curriculars and achievements on your applications. As well as all that you've done for the city…" she trailed off with a light chuckle seeing the displeasure that came to Rocky's face. "I'm just saying, Samuel, that there's plenty you can use to move forward in life and that your results in this class, so far, are some of the best I've seen."

Rocky leaned back in his seat, a wry smile coming to his face. "Even better than Amanda?" He asked.

Mrs. Lourd laughed. "I don't think anyone can top Amanda. She had 'valedictorian' written all over her the second she transferred to this school. MIT bound and everything, she already got the next twenty years of her life planned out." She lifted a hand. "But we're not talking about her, we're talking about you."

Rocky's eyes shifted. "What do you mean? I thought I was doing fine."

"You are, but that's not why I asked you here today." Mrs. Lourd's pleasant expression turned serious. She looked him in the eye. "You're doing well on all your assignments and you're finishing the timed essays on time. But your class participation and your attentiveness has greatly declined since the semester's started."

Rocky stayed silent. Had he really become so preoccupied with everything outside of school that it was affecting everything else? He was usually pretty good at balancing it. Then again, all the problems they'd ever had with people hell bent on taking ransoms and getting money had been during the summer. They hadn't had to worry about what'd it'd be like if someone decided to try anything while they were going to school.

It was genius, really, Rocky thought. Not that he thought Harding was _that _smart. But if he did plan that part of things, knowing it wouldn't be long before his, Colt's, and Tum-Tum's names were dragged through the newspaper in connection with his release.

What happened months ago, at the beginning of the summer, seemed like a lifetime ago. Where he'd gone from a normal shift at the pizza shop, looking forward to a day off, to having his past waved in his face from an offhand comment from his best friend to Colt and Tum-Tum nearly jumping out of their skin the moment he got home. And Rocky was able to appease them faster than he thought he would.

_As soon as he set food over the threshold, Colt and Tum-Tum grabbed onto his arms and dragged him to Colt's room. As Rocky was shoved inside, Tum-Tum dropped to the floor. Colt ducked his head outside the door, looking up and down the hallway. Then he ducked back inside and closed the door, leaning against it. He regarded Rocky with an expression Rocky was surprised to see wasn't one of anger. _

_Then again, Colt really did manage to curb his anger over the years. It still popped up every now and then, sometimes a lot quicker than others, but it usually had to be something that truly bugged him to get him there. Of course, that didn't keep him from arguing with their father on a near daily basis._

_"Rock," Colt breathed. "Did you hear?"_

_"If this guy is back, don't you think he's going to come after us?" Tum-Tum added. He had a Twizzler hanging out of the corner of his mouth wedged firmly in the corner. He started to pick at his fingernails. "If it were me, I think I would."_

_Rocky smiled a little. Even after going through a long bout with braces Tum-Tum wasn't able to give up his candy habit. He was smarter about his diet, now that he was on the wrestling team, but he couldn't completely kick his candy craving. As far as Rocky knew, Tum-Tum still had a jellybean stash somewhere. Rocky should've known stress would keep him chewing on the sugary stuff._

_The eldest brother brought a hand up and rubbed his forehead, trying to think of the best response to the questions that had also crossed his mind. His first reaction was to calm his brothers down lest they jumped to conclusions—which was a habit that all of them seemed to have—and make things worse for themselves. _

_Rocky spoke slowly, "I don't think it's anything we need to freak out about. I mean, mom and dad haven't said anything either. They must have a good reason for it. This is dad we're talking about. It's his job to keep secrets. He can keep something that would be potentially upsetting a secret for a long time. Remember that time that Grandpa was in the hospital for a broken leg and he wouldn't tell us because he was afraid that we'd do something stupid?"_

_"Yeah, I remember." Tum-Tum snorted. "Colt did do something stupid. He skipped school just to go see how grandpa was doing and got caught."_

_"It's not my fault that I just so happened to have a calc test the same day." Colt smiled as he shrugged. But then his smile faded and he turned to Rocky, his blue eyes hardening. "So what are we going to do?" He crossed his arms, lips in a thin line as he waited for an answer._

_Rocky looked at his feet, and then lifted his head, his blue-green eyes meeting his brother's. "Nothing," he said. "If Harding were smart he wouldn't try to get revenge or anything. He'd just lie low and live out the rest of his life." Rocky lifted an eyebrow. "I mean, he already lost all of his money, his assets, his companies…what else can he do?"_

What else can he do?

Rocky was never one to tempt fate before, but he certainly opened Pandora's box that day if there was anything else to go by. Now, sitting in his classroom, he realized how much truly had been going on. "I guess I never realized," he said slowly. How long had he been sitting in class, staring at his notebook, scribbling in the corners as the classes passed. He paid attention long enough to follow along in the class discussions, read aloud when his time came, nudge Jason awake the longer he slid lower in his seat, snoring quietly. "Is it going to affect my grades that badly?"

Mrs. Kubrick smile patiently. "Only if you let it," she said gently. "I know everyone is pulling you left and right about senior year being your most important school year. And that is very true. But there's something else you have to remember as well."

Rocky blinked quietly, waiting for her response.

"You have to have fun, too. I've known you since you started here, Sam—"

"—With all due respect, Mrs. Kubrick, you probably knew of me long before I even started here," Rocky gently interrupted, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Nevertheless, he soothed the wound of interrupting with a sweet smile.

"Well, be that as it may, I've seen you around school. You've got a good head on your shoulders, Samuel, but it wouldn't hurt to have some fun while you're at it." She pushed his paper toward him, signaling Rocky to stand up and leave the classroom. He scooped his hat off his desk and slid it over his head as he did so. Another means of moving between the two parts of himself; from model student to Rocky. "Not as much fun as your friend, Jason. If he was any more relaxed, he'd be dead."

Rocky laughed. "I can only do so much to keep him awake. I don't think you'd want me to blow an air horn by his ear." He folded his arms and shrugged. "I tried that before, it didn't work. All that loud music must have damaged his hearing."

"I guess so," Mrs. Kubrick agreed with a laugh of her own. "He never seems to notice when I'm trying to get him to participate."

"Nah, that's just him being really good at trying to catch up on his work later." Rocky thought for a moment. "I know this is none of my business," he said slowly, conspiratorially. "But…things aren't so great with him right now. If it's affecting his work at all…"

"You're a good friend, Samuel." Mrs. Kubrick reached into the pile of papers next to her and flipped through them for a few moments. She pulled one out, folded it in half, then handed it to Rocky. "If he needs some help, let him know I'm always here to help him. But I can't help unless he asks."

_Yeah, I get that message loud and clear, _Rocky thought. How many times had he said those exact words himself, when talking to others about the Crossses' frequent travels for work, leaving their son behind. Rocky waved to Mrs. Kubrick before leaving the classroom. He closed the door behind him then turned, holding out the folded up sheet of paper for Jason to snap up.

"Please don't ask me to do that again," Rocky said, not even sparing a passing glance at his best friend. Jason grinned in response, plucking his paper form his hand. Emily stood on Rocky's other side, shaking her head towards Jason. "Or, if you really think you're going to get a bad grade, at least play sick."

"You know my acting skills are lousy," Jason replied. He opened the paper and examined the grade that sat at the top of the page. Appeared neither pleased or displeased, Rocky noted. "I couldn't even convince my mom I had a fever."

"That's because you held the thermometer above the lightbulb so long that it exploded the second you put it in your mouth," Emily reminded him. She rolled her eyes. "You nearly got mercury poisoning because of it."

"Thermometers don't _have _mercury anymore, Miss. Know-It-All," Jason shot back. He reached out his hand, prompting Rocky to hold his up, allowing Jason to clasp their hands together. "I owe you one, man."

"You owe me a lot," Rocky replied.

Jason nodded. "I know."

Emily snorted quietly. The three started towards the cafeteria, it already filled to the brim with students. They got into line, moving a few inches forward every few seconds as the students grabbed their food and went to sit in their places. Rocky looked around the cafeteria for his friends; first finding Dalton and Laurie, some of the closer friends in his class, all crammed into a table with some of his other classmates, sure they were planning their homecoming night and spirit week.

There were enough posters around the room that reminded them of it coming. It made Rocky pause for a moment, thinking of what Mrs. Kubrick—and Jason and Emily—had consistently told him. That he needed to relax and have fun. (At least it was nicer than the way Colt and Tum-Tum would say it, him having a 'stick up his ass'.). He knew how to have fun, but sometimes fun had to be put on the back burner when the state of the city was more important.

Rocky continued gazing around the lunchroom, looking for his brothers. He found Colt, Brett, Jo, Riley, Rhuben, Patrick, Noah, and Tum-Tum already sitting at one table, talking and laughing about something Jo was saying. She seemed to bounce back from her arrest better than Rocky thought she would. _Jo's a warrior, _Rocky reminded himself. Not just through her family, but through her spirit. She wasn't going to stop until MedoCal stopped, no matter how long it took.

Colt lifted his chin and met Rocky's gaze, nodding once, making Rocky nod back. They could have fun soon, he determined. Once everything with Harding was finished. They finished going through the line, paying for their food, and went over to the table.

"Has Jase's snoring started to drive you crazy, yet?" Emily asked as soon as they sat down.

Rocky lifted his eyebrows at Emily's teasing question to bring his soda can up to his mouth. He took a long sip then placed it back to the table. "It's not that bad," he finally said, after waiting a moment to be sure to suppress a burp. "It's better than him being at home by himself for so long."

"You still haven't heard back from your parents?" Brett asked. His pale brows pinched together behind his glasses, as he finally tore his eyes away from his laptop. He lowered the lid, carefully pushing it aside so that it was still close.

"Called. Left messages. Nothing." Jason reported, as if he were talking about the weather. "They say they're in area with low cell service, but who knows how true that is." Jason shrugged and tucked into his burger. He tapped his fingertips against his arms. "It's just as well. It's been a while since I threw a party and there's gotta be a place for everyone to crash once homecoming is over."

"What do they do?" Noah asked quietly.

He sat on the far side of Tum-Tum, making Rocky strain to hear him over the din of the lunchroom. Noah passed a salt shaker back and forth between him and Patrick, who sat across from him, the twin boys not even looking at each other as they shot it back and forth to each other. Rocky watched them for a moment, taking note of the way they were able to use their connection to know what the other was going to do.

"They're in investments," Jason explained. He started to count off on his fingers, turning his gaze towards the ceiling as he thought. "Stocks, bonds, shares, properties, shares, growth investments, high interest savings accounts, art pieces, businesses…" he waved a hand. "If you can invest money in it, that's what they're going to jump on. Fun Fact, they were the first people to invest in Twitch."

"Whoa." Riley's eyebrows rose, an amused smile coming to her face. "Really?"

"Yeah, if only they knew they were single-handedly funding my future career, they probably wouldn't have looked down on it so much," Jason joked. "Got so much money they could make people disappear and no one would bat an eye."

Emily pointed her fork at him. "That's because you said you were going to quiet school to play video games. Anyone would worry if their kids came home and said that."

"And anyone would worry if they came home with you on their arm, but I wasn't going to bring that up," Jason shot back, making Emily stick out her tongue and Jason shoot her the finger in response. Rocky gave them both a disapproving glance which made them shut up and Jo giggle.

"Like you're a prize yourself," Colt remarked with a snort. "How many times has your craptastic car crapped out on you?"

"I think I saw it getting towed away this morning," Jo added, nudging Colt on the arm with her elbow. "Hopefully it's the last time. It'd be good for some scrap metal." Her eyes lit up and she pointed at Jason. "Maybe we can take it. Chief Roundcreek was saying he wanted to use something beat down for target practice. It's a bit more humane." She paused. "Not for the car, but…"

The table burst out into laughter once more. Rocky laughed along wit them. His gaze swept over the cafeteria, watching as the students, from the freshmen to the seniors, all shared music, shared videos on their phones, passed magazines back and forth, read, laughed, did everything any normal student would. But he also noticed how any of them were discreetly opening the tell-tale green packets that Harding was pushing through the city.

Darren and Darryl stood by the doors to the cafeteria, glancing over at whomever came through with a curious laser-like gaze. When they found people they were looking for, mostly their own friends, they'd greet them with a hearty clap of their hands against each other, a pounded fist on the back, then separated as quickly as they came together.

As if nothing happened.

Rocky was sure they were passing the drugs to the students there, probably funneled it through their lockers and cars as well. Or maybe even through their baseball team. The Mustangs always had a way of cheating to ensure a win, doing drugs wouldn't have been to big of a stretch, either.

Emily followed his gaze then pushed her lunch aside and leaned in, lowering her voice. Prompting everyone else to do the same. "What are you going to do about them?" She lifted her chin to point toward Darren and Darryl. "It's not like they're just going to listen to you when you tell them to stop."

"We could always beat them up," Colt remarked. He rested his chin in his hands. "There's more than enough you can say with your left and right fist."

"Colt," Rocky said in warning.

Colt's upper lip curled. He briefly rolled his gaze toward the ceiling then addressed his eldest brother. "Don't 'Colt' me, Rock. You know it's the only thing that's going to do it. If we tell the teachers, they're just going to do a drug search and they'll get rid of the evidence by then."

"Okay, so what about telling the police?" Brett asked.

"Don't you think they would've already thought of that?" Jason asked, mouth still full of food. Rocky made a face, grabbing a napkin off his tray and shoved it into his best friend's face, pressing his face away.

Jo snorted. "Before or after they arrest me again?" She shook her head, frowning intensely. It was the longest Rocky had seen Jo upset. Even when they were trying to take down Harding the first time, she still had a sense of a calm fury rumbling beneath her exterior. The more she and her family were treated badly, the more her tranquil fury came out. Her arrest for a peaceful protest was a tiny blip on the radar in comparison. "Harding worked with them before, and we all know how corrupt the police system can be." She held her hands out towards Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum. "No offense."

"Besides, no matter if the police are corrupt under Harding's influence, our dad would be implicated," Riley pointed out. She ran a hand through her hair, eyebrows briefly twitching upwards. "Harding used our dad's product to funnel his drugs out, and I reckon if he'd would use him as the fucking scapegoat once he realizes we're on his tail."

"He probably already knows that," Jason said, wagging a finger in the air, mouth full of burrito. He was the only one not to push his food away from him. He focused on solely on it, hoovering up his lunch as quickly as he could. "Considering your past with him."

"Mmm, not just that," Brett remarked, voice a low mumble. "If he was able to make his business from prison, and with what he's doing, he probably has the highest security within the MedoCal building. He can't be too careful."

"Too right," Patrick agreed. He motioned between himself and his siblings. "We can hardly get through the bloody security without having to put our mug shots up everywhere, yeah?" He framed his hands around his face in 'en vogue' motions.

Rhuben rolled her eyes. "And without you walking into the doors every time."

"I can't remember dad's code."

"It's a bloody _confidential facility_!" Noah cried, eyes growing wide at his twin brother's stupidity.

"Explains why he can never remember it," Riley intoned, chin resting in her hands. She shook her head at her brother, who simply shrugged and grinned in response.

"Anyway, if we tell the police, we'll get in even more trouble with dad than we already are." Tum-Tum pointed out. Rocky nearly laughed out loud. Out of everything they'd ever been through, it was still so refreshing, and funny, to see Tum-Tum's worries still lied in trying to keep their parents from finding out what they were up to. Tum-Tum's eyes widened earnestly. "I don't know if that's any worse than the police thinking we're just trying to make trouble."

Rocky was about to respond but stopped when the lunch bell went off. He shrugged, closed is mouth, and moved to pick up his tray. They could finish the conversation later. At least it helped figure out what they were going to do. He looked to Colt then to Tum-Tum, who looked back at him, nodding silently. Rocky nodded in response.

It was decided then.

They all moved away from the table, dropping the conversation in case anyone had been eavesdropping. Jason and Emily moved ahead of the others, bickering about whatever it was they were bickering about that day, while Tum-Tum, Patrick, and Noah blended in with their classmates, a large, loud group of boys laughing over something on their phones. An easy and sudden switch from the two parts of their lives.

"Oh, Rocky, before I forget. Here are the photos you asked me for." Rhuben reached into her backpack and pulled out some printed photographs which, upon quick glance, Rocky saw was from the ninja tournament. "It's all the ones I took while at the tournament." She hefted her backpack up her shoulder, handing the photos over to him with such care that Rocky didn't have to ask whether or she took photos as a hobby.

"Thanks." Rocky took them from her, carefully shuffling them through his hands as he extracted himself from the lunch table. If his suspicions were correct, after everything he'd seen in his own photos, anything that she would've taken that day would've helped tell the story they were trying to figure out. And work out what JJ was specifically doing at the tournament, if not watching them. "Thank you for doing this, you didn't have to. Not after…"

"Not after you accused our dad of poisoning people?" Riley broke in. Rocky flushed. Riley quickly waved it off. "No need to blush, Rocky. Besides, we owe you an apology." Her siblings all glared at her. Her eyes widened just slightly as she folded her arms, before she looked at him seriously. "Okay, _I _owe you an apology. For when you came to ask about our dad and MedoCal? I shouldn't have blown up on you like that. You were just trying to figure things out and I got mad."

"Surprise, surprise," Patrick mumbled, earning an elbow into his side from Noah.

Riley ignored him. "If it were the other way around…"

"No, no, it's okay," Rocky said quickly. "I get it."

If his father was accused as being as corrupt as the rest of the police force at the time…he didn't know what he'd do. The city sheriff had immediately resigned and moved away before multiple charges could be brought against him. The Mayor had been kicked out of the office and faced public scrutiny, multiple key players had been sent to prison, and there was still most of the city who didn't trust anyone in law enforcement.

Sam had done his best to show Los Angeles that the reputation of the police force hadn't known of the corruption due to Harding and his business, but the damage was done. There were still many who didn't call when house parties got of control in case of the police doing a raid and exerting their presence of those underage. Last time Rocky went to one of Jason's parties, he parked a few blocks away with some of the other party goes to ensure the place didn't get shut down.

Nothing was worse than knowing someone who knew his father would see him there and report back. At least, he thought so until the reality of not being believed struck him in the face. Of not knowing whether he could

It struck Rocky then. The reason Harding was doing everything, was able to get the money for his investments, was able to fly under the radar, was able to get his drug smuggling business out in the city without people realizing it, how he was able to use Reed's product behind his back to make it harder to be detected.

But that was small potatoes considering how easily things could've turned out for his father. Who invested so much into his own…

The answer slammed into Rocky's head like a freight train. Like a baseball bat cracking him upside the head, just like it'd had when he'd been practicing as short stop and he'd gotten too close to the batter at play. And it was that realization that made Rocky wonder how it could've taken so long for him to make the connection when it was right in front of him.

"Can you guys meet up later?" Rocky asked Riley suddenly. Her eyebrows pinched together, features twisting into an expression that she clearly thought he'd lost his mind. Rocky looked back at her, blonde lashes fluttering as he blinked rapidly. "We need to talk."

Riley's eyebrows lifted before the smirk-smile returned to her face. "Ooh, those are words no girl ever wants to hear. 'We need to talk'." She used air quotes around the words then pressed a hand to her chest, fluttering her eyelashes. "I hope you're not breaking up with me."

Despite himself, Rocky smiled.

She smiled back, then her expression turned serious. "When and where?"

* * *

"You sure you're going to be okay?"

Jason looked at Rocky as if he were crazy. He lowered the magazine he held over his face to land on his chest. "You're literally sneaking out of your house at midnight, in a house where the director of FBI is your dad lives, and would probably kill you if he found out…and you're asking if I'm going to be okay here, minding my own business?" Jason held the magazine up over his face once more. "I'll be fine. I'm worried about you."

Rocky finished lacing his shoes and placed his feet on the floor. He leaned forward on the side of his bed, curling his fingers into the mattress to hold on tightly. He watched as Jason all but ignored his worries. A half smile came to his face. "I'm not going to get caught."

"You will if the story you want me to tell doesn't hold up," Jason replied. He lowered the magazine once more, stretching his legs among the sleeping bad he'd been sleeping in since having arrived at the Douglas house. Rocky had offered his bed and an air mattress, both of which Jason waved off. "I can come up with something a lot better than you needing to take a walk to clear your head."

Rocky sighed, shaking his head. "Just go with that. It's all they'll need to hear." He didn't want to add he knew it'd work because he was the 'responsible one' and if, somehow, they got caught, he could talk his way out of any trouble he and his brothers would be in. Sneaking out was one thing, but meeting up with the very people that their father forbade them from seeing was another. As it was, his stomach was already twisting with the expectation that the moment he opened his bedroom door, his father would be standing on the other side, waiting to catch him. "I have to go."

"If this is what happened every summer you guys were dealing with these things, I'm glad I stayed home," Jason remarked. "Being forced to do yardwork all day every day was less stressful than this." Jason pointed to him. "You know, you're probably going to go prematurely bald later in life. I'm calling it now."

"Shut up."

Rocky slid out his bedroom, gently closing the door behind him, hoping it was one of the few times where the hinges didn't creak. He looked to the side, watching his parents' bedroom door for any movement, any telltale sign they were still awake. But their even breathing let him know they were asleep, so he quickly moved from the door. He crept past his grandfather's room then down to the foyer, where his brothers were waiting.

Colt reached over and silenced the alarm before it could off, getting Tum-Tum the opportunity to ever so quietly open the front door and allow the three brothers to slip out into the cool California night. They raced across the dewy front lawn and ran down the street as fast and as quiet as they could go, following the route they'd take on a run with their father, knowing exactly where they were headed. They moved along in silence until they were far enough into the path that they could slow to a walk.

They'd almost reached their destination when Tum-Tum asked. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Colt huffed, and despite Rocky hardly being able to see him, he knew Colt was sneering. "We already agreed, Tum. We're not going back on it, now."

"I know," Tum-Tum said defensively. He shrugged, hands shoved into the pocket of his sweatshirt. "I just mean…if we get caught, we're going to be in a lot of trouble."

Rocky and Colt exchanged a look before Colt said, "After everything we've already done, you're worried about getting in trouble? _Now_?" Colt shook his head. "You know, I don't get you, Tum. One minute you're willing to give up your food to do ninja stuff, the next you're acting like a scared baby."

"I'm _not _a baby!"

"Would you stop?" Rocky asked with a sigh, already knowing where the argument was heading and how long it could last.

He didn't want to think about it. Part of him did feel guilty for all the times they dragged Tum-Tum into their plans, but Tum-Tum was also one who didn't want to be left behind either. If he was worried about it now…? Rocky sucked in another deep breath through his nose, wondering how much his mother had told Colt about Tum-Tum's problems, and how they all stemmed from their kidnapping. Wondered if Colt realized his own problems stemmed from the very same thing.

They didn't come from it unscathed, as much as they all liked to think.

"Now's not the time," Rocky continued.

"Yes, dad," Colt grumbled.

Tum-Tum snickered quietly.

Rocky frowned.

The three were silent for a long time before Colt said quietly, "Do you really think they won't believe us?" Rocky looked to Colt, mildly surprised at his hesitation, but not all the same. Colt was his right-hand man and had the means to be a leader if he wanted to, but still turned to his eldest brother for guidance when warranted.

"Who?" Rocky asked.

"The police. Teachers. We're only doing this because we don't think they can do anything to help," Colt said slowly.

"You saw how they were with Harding before," Rocky reminded him. "There's a pretty good chance the police are still compromised," he said slowly. "Teachers wouldn't believe us, they know we've had issues with Darren and Darryl in the past, they'd think we were just trying to get them in trouble. Not to mention the targets that'd put on our backs."

"Oh please." Colt rolled his eyes. "We've beat these guys before. Literally. Even Miyo has."

"Yeah, but this time is different. It's not just us we have to worry about."

It was Colt's turn to heave a sigh. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

They turned the corner and headed toward the playground they knew and used to play on. Rocky's eyes had adjusted to the dark by that point, and he could see the Jacksons waiting for them, just as he'd asked. They sat quietly on the swings and nearby play equipment, perking up when they saw the boys approach.

"Hey, Sam. Colt, Tum-Tum." Riley greeted him with a nod. He nodded back. Riley spread her arms, shrugged, and put her hands back into her pockets. "So, what'd you bring us out here for?"

"Not that we don't enjoy the thrill of sneaking out," Patrick agreed. He tipped his head towards his youngest brother, Sydney, who sat on a swing, blinking rapidly. "But if mum finds out we kept him out this late we'd get an earful."

"Told you we should've left him behind," Noah muttered.

"Like he would've stayed," Rhuben said with a roll of her eyes. She shook her purple strand of hair from her face.

Rocky smiled to himself, remembering Tum-Tum when he was that age. Not wanting to be left out of anything and consistently asking to tag along with him and Colt no matter what they were doing. _Not like he's much different now, _Rocky added silently. Rocky looked to his brothers, got straight to the point, and said, "We think Harding is going to do something. Sooner rather than later. These guys always do something to try and get back at us. And they always do it when we least expect it."

"Their egos can't take that we're ruining all their plans," Tum-Tum agreed with a cheeky grin. Colt made a low snorting sound, shaking his head. Rocky glanced at his youngest brother, waiting for the bright smile to slowly fade away. Tum-Tum made a sheepish expression, stepping back to clasp his hands in front of him, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Sorry," Tum-Tum quickly apologized.

"Anyway," Rocky continued. "I was going to say there's a really good chance that, now that Harding knows we're onto him, he's probably going to target you, too. Especially with your dad being wrapped up in everything. And you need to be prepared for it."

"Meaning?" Rhuben pressed.

Rocky took in a breath through his nose. He pressed his lips together. "We think you should do some ninja training."


	29. Passing The Torch II

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

* * *

Rocky did a series of backflips to evade being kicked by Tum-Tum. He landed cleanly on the ground and immediately dropped to his back. Tum-Tum leapt up and crossed his legs, driving his knees down towards Rocky's chest. Bringing up his arms, Rocky crossed them over his chest, absorbing the brunt of the blow.

The wind was almost knocked out of him. Having his youngest brother drop onto him when he was still overweight was one thing. Having his youngest brother who managed to become fit and know as many wrestling moves than Rocky would've ever become comfortable with, was painful. Especially with his bony knees and legging digging right into his arms, forcing said protection, right into his sternum.

Rocky knocked Tum-Tum backwards with an upraised force of his arms, only to have an arm wrapped around his neck and have his bodyweight flung around in a swirling vortex that made his stomach suddenly slam to the side, causing nausea to wave over him. Rocky blinked his eyes open, mentally working out how to bring himself from Tum-Tum's grasp around him.

Tum-Tum's arm was around his neck, but Rocky's body was parallel to the ground, held up by his feet planted firmly on the ground and his back resting against Tum-Tum's upraised knee. Very similar to the game he and his brothers used to play, that they roped Emily into when they were younger. Where they'd rest their backs on the seats of chairs, their feet on the ground, heads resting on each other's laps, and had to keep themselves up when the chairs were taken away. A game that usually left them collapsed into hysterical laughter as they tried to stay up, but in that moment had Rocky facing some of the most discomfort he ever felt with a knee into his spine.

His mind raced, working up to figure out what it was that'd get Tum-Tum off him. Then he caught a glimpse of Tum-Tum's face, saw the amused glint in his eye that he was able to pin his eldest brother, and figured it out. Use Tum's excitement against him. Rocky allowed himself to grow limp, allowed his body to collapse in the center so that his butt hovered just above the ground. He brought up his hand and tapped Tum-Tum's wrist.

In a second, Tum-Tum's grasp started to loosen around Rocky's neck, and Rocky used that moment to strike. He slipped his head out from Tum-Tum's grasp and extended his arms above his head. He grabbed Tum-Tum's wrist with his both hands, and in a flurry of movements, twisted around so that he had Tum-Tum kneeling on the ground, crying out in pain as Rocky twisted his arm behind his back.

"Okay, okay, okay! I give!" Tum-Tum cried. "I give, let go!"

Grinning, Rocky released Tum-Tum's hand and backed away so that his younger brother could get back to his feet. Tum-Tum scowled, all but pouting as he rubbed his shoulder. Then crossed his arms over his yellow gi. Rocky pulled at the collar of his own green gi, wiping sweat away from his shoulder, and stepped back. Without prompting, the two turned and pressed their hands to their sides, bowing low to each other, then turned and bowed to Colt and Mori, who watched the sparring match.

"Good job, Tum-Tum," Mori said, his voice strong as it carried over the backyard. He drummed his fingers over the top of the cane he grasped towards his chin in both hands. "You're really coming into your own fighting style. I am pleased to see that it is treating you well." Tum-Tum nodded, the grin that stretched across his face made it to his eyes. Mori then turned to Rocky, frowning ever so slightly. "You're going to face tough battles in life, Rocky. The toughest will always be when you have to face your brothers. You need to keep your wits about you when it happens."

Rocky frowned, placing his hands on his hips, mulling over his grandfather's words. He ignored the look of confusion Tum-Tum shot Rocky out of the corner of his eye. Ignored the way a fleeting smile came to Colt's face from where he saw next to his grandfather, waiting for his turn to spar as well. "Yes, sir," he replied dutifully. He cleared his throat, an obvious change in his demeanor as he looked to his brothers. Tum-Tum and Colt looked back at him and nodded subtly.

Rocky licked his lips. "Grandpa," he said slowly. "Do you remember how I was telling you about Harding?" He lowered himself into the seiza position—with an erect sine and his legs and feet neatly tucked beneath him. Beside him, Tum-Tum did the same and Colt moved into the same position beside his grandfather as well. While it wasn't something he and his family did very often, it was mainly used for the more traditional, formal occasions, but they'd been taught it was a respectful way to sit in the presence of their elders.

Especially when that respect was being shown toward their grandfather.

Mori nodded silently. His gaze turned to the side, looking wistfully over the flowers that gently waved in the breeze. He took in a deep breath, then shifted his gaze back to Rocky. He lifted his hand and waved it, motioning for the boys to relax. Immediately, all three boys removed themselves from the slightly painful position and stretched out, waiting for their grandfather's words of wisdom.

"You've been training under me for a long time," he said slowly. "Ever since you all could walk. And I've seen you grow into as great young ninjas as I've seen you become great young men." He shrugged, looking his grandsons in the eye. "I'm not sure there's much left for me to teach you."

Colt was the first to protest. "That's not true, grandpa. There's always something you can teach us."

"Yeah!" Tum-Tum agreed. "You make learning so much better than anything the teachers could do in school."

Rocky smiled to himself. The smile faded almost instantly. Knowing what his grandfather was getting to but not quite saying. He remembered his conversation the last time he had one-on-one time with his grandfather. Where he first tried to breach the topic of Jack Harding and what was happening around them.

_"Rocky, you know this burden isn't yours to bear alone," he added, voice turning serious. "Colt and Tum-Tum are older, you should trust them more."_

_"I do trust them!" Rocky frowned, hearing how earnest his voice was. "I don't trust anyone more than I trust them. I don't think I could." He removed his hat and raked a hand through his hair. "I just…I want them to be okay."_

_"When you're gone, you mean?"_

_Rocky nodded, licking his lips._

_"It's not like you won't be back."_

_"The way everyone's talking about it, it's like I'll be gone forever. And now that Jack is here…I don't know."_

_"You've taken care of him before." Mori looked at Rocky out the corner of his eye. "If I remember correctly, you boys were sneaking out of my house all the time to meet that girl…to help you to face him."_

_"Jo, yeah." Rocky smiled. "But…things were easier then. This is different."_

_"How so?"_

_"Because…because there are higher stakes. Because there's a lot we don't know. When Harding was around before, he was just using his land to dump. What does he want now? What people is he going to hurt now? Is he out for revenge? Has he changed? What are we supposed to do—"_

_"—You know the answer to that!" Mori frowned._

_Rocky waved a hand. "I know, don't strike first. A ninja never strikes first." He clenched his hand into a fist, long enough for his fingertips to turn numb. "But he struck first tonight, grandpa."_

_"Do you know that for sure?" Rocky's silence was Mori's answer. Mori placed his hands in his lap and was silent for a long time. For a moment, Rocky was sure his grandfather had fallen asleep. But, finally, he said, "Just as you can't strike first, you can't act as if you know everything others are going to do."_

_"But grandpa, you always tell us to be prepared, to get in the mind of our opponent. To always be two steps ahead. How can I do that if I don't act like I know what the other person is going to do?" All at once, Rocky was transported back to when he was first leaning martial arts, when he worked through the confusing oxymorons that were told to him. Be quiet so your opponent doesn't hear you, but scream your kiais as loud as possible. Each lesson growing more confusing as time passed._

_Or maybe that was the point._

_Mori smiled. "That's one of the great mysteries of being a ninja," he remarked. "Of knowing which path to follow."_

Rocky shook his head, erasing the memory before it went too far. Before it went to the part of the conversation he tried to block from his mind. The truth that he hadn't said to younger brothers, wanting their grandfather to say it first. The truth that seemed to haunt him daily. Nevertheless, he waited quietly as Mori settled himself into his seat, tightening his grasp along his cane.

"I'm glad I have your approval, Little One," Mori said with a smile. That same twinkling smile he always showed when around his grandsons. "I'm glad you've been enjoying my teachings."

"Well, that's what we wanted to talk to you about," Colt spoke up quickly, cutting off his grandfather. "With everything that's going on with Harding…we think there's something you can help us with. The Jacksons…they need some help." Colt's eyebrows furrowed together when he noticed Mori's smile widen, lowering his chin. "You know about that?"

"I know a lot, Colt," Mori replied. He lifted his chin, shook his head just slightly, lifting his gaze to just above their heads. "I know a lot about them that you don't know. That I don't feel you should know unless they bring it up themselves." Colt opened his mouth to protest. "Just as I'd advised of you for your parents over the years. They've had lives before you and continue to have a life you may not know of. There's no reason to judge when you don't have an idea of what that life is." He pursed his lips then shook his head. "These old bones…I don't know if I can help you the way you want me to."

"What does that mean, grandpa?" Tum-Tum asked quietly.

"It means, if you want to help your friends, I think you should be the ones to teach them ninja, not me." Mori spread his hands when Colt, Tum-Tum, and even Rocky all had a simultaneous outburst. "I've taught you everything you know, and you continue to improve as the days go on. The only way to improve even further, than from continuously training, is to train others. That's the mark of a true teacher."

"Well, duh!" Tum-Tum blurted. Then cried out in pain when Rocky and Colt both reached out and hit him at the same time. Rocky swatting him on the arm while Colt reached out his foot and struck him in the shin. Tum-Tum's eyes widened defensively. "I just meant we know what teachers do. We sit in school all day every day and—"

"Shut up, Tum," Colt hissed.

Rocky stayed silent. He had a feeling he knew what his grandfather was going to say next. That it was probably a good idea if he was the one that lead the ninja training. He knew the most, wanted to learn as much as possible, had the experience…everything he'd ever heard from his parents when the dreaded comment, "Why can't you be more like your brother?" or "Why can't you be more like Rocky?" managed to rear its ugly head and make things worse for him.

Mori looked at Rocky for a solid moment while Colt and Tum-Tum continued to bicker. Finally, Mori got to his feet and said, "I'm always behind you whenever you need help. I'll always be there for you boys. But, I think, this is one fight you're going to have to face yourselves." He shook his head. "And that fight will come to you sooner than you think if you don't get ready for school. Your mother in a bad mood is one thing I don't ever want to face."

Rocky laughed and got to his feet. He watched his grandfather move inside the house then turned to his brothers, folding his arms over his chest. "Guys, I think it's okay."

Tum-Tum scowled. "You think it's okay that Colt wanted to sell me for a _quarter_?"

Rocky lifted his eyebrows. "You _told _him that?"

"No, I told him we tried to sell him for a dollar but I had to keep lowering my prices," Colt shot back sarcastically. Tum-Tum made a sound of offense, prompting Colt to shrug. "It's not my fault you're not worth a dollar."

"Actually, I think we started at fifty cents, raised it to a dollar, then dropped it to twenty-five," Rocky teased, maliciously enjoying the look of horror that crossed Tum-Tum's face. Rocky fist-bumped Colt before saying, "I'm just kidding, Tum. And anyway, I meant, I think it's alright if we taught the Jacksons ninja ourselves. It shouldn't be too difficult, we've been doing it for years and even helped teach Amanda a little of what we knew."

"You really think Grandpa doesn't want to help us?" Tum-Tum asked quietly. Hi stone quickly shifting the mood of the conversation. "Is he okay?" Rocky ducked his head, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"He's fine," Colt reassured him. "Just getting older. It's not going to be much longer until we can beat him in a fight. And, anyway, it's probably a good idea if we handle all of this ourselves. He probably doesn't believe us anyway." Rocky gave him a look. "Come on. If mom and dad believed us, don't you think they'd do something to help rather than say we can't hang out with them?" He placed a hand to his chest. "I don't know about you, but dad bursting into MedoCal like that was embarrassing."

"I'm glad your reputation is more important than everyone who Harding is poisoning," Rocky said sarcastically.

"Don't be a jerk, you know it's not. I'm just saying we haven't had dad's support before, why would we have it now? Just like always, we're going to have to handle this ourselves and I'm prepared to do that."

"Okay…but how are we going to teach them ninja without mom and dad finding out?" Tum-Tum's face screwed up. "We still have baseball practice until the season ends, there's school, mom's checking we're keeping up with our classes. I still have wrestling—"

"—We'll have to meet them again," Rocky interrupted. "Like we did last night." He thought about the day at the ice cream parlor, where they'd been attacked. "I don't think it'll take too long for them to learn. Not if a five foot three girl can take down a guy more than twice her size."

Colt nodded slowly. "What do you think grandpa meant?"

"About what?"

"That he knows more about them than he can tell us."

"What he said. That he probably knows more he can't tell us. Probably the same things that mom and dad know but won't tell us." Something in the back of his head started to niggle at him, something that Emily had told him before. "But that's not important now. They're in as much trouble as we are, and we just have to trust them." Colt and Tum-Tum looked skeptical. "Trust _me _then."

"You know we do," Colt reminded him. He stepped up to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder in a rare moment of sincere solidarity that Rocky was sure would be nullified by a joke or a sarcastic comment within minutes. "We always do. But you have to trust us, too."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That's you're starting to act more and more like dad every day."

Colt dropped his hand from Rocky's shoulder and went into the house. Tum-Tum ran after him, shouting that he wanted to take the first shower, shoving Colt out of the way as he did so. He sighed and followed them into the kitchen, closing the sliding glass door behind him. He lifted his chin in a nod to Jason, who sat at the table, hunched over a large plate of pancakes.

"Miss. Douglas, I know you're worried about me, but I don't think I can eat anymore," Jason was saying as Mrs. Douglas flittered about, gathering her things for work that day. She stopped long enough to present her cheek for Rocky to plant a kiss on, then kept moving.

"Perks of living in a house full of boys, Jason," Mrs. Douglas said with a small smile. A strained smile, Rocky noted. "There's always someone around who's going to eat what you don't." She pointed toward the ceiling, at the sound of running water moving through the pipes. "Leave it long enough and I'm sure Tum'll get to it."

"I'll take it," Rocky offered. "If I don't eat now, I won't have anything until lunch." He looked at his watch, then looked up to see his mother giving him a disapproving frown. "I meant because Em's going to be here soon and she hates to be late."

"Yes, we wouldn't want to keep her highness waiting," Jason said sarcastically, pushing his plate away. Rocky swooped in and picked it up. He turned to Mori, who sat quietly at the counter, sipping at a cup of coffee. "It was good talking to you, Mr. Tanaka."

Mori nodded in response. Mrs. Douglas bid goodbye to the family and slipped out the door. Rocky moved to his grandfather's side. "What were you and Jason talking about?" He asked, cutting into a piece of pancake. He kept his eyes on the clock above the oven. "I can't remember the last time you guys had a conversation."

Eyes still closed, Mori said, "He doesn't have many people to listen to him."

"Grandpa, I listen to him all the time."

"His parents are always gone?" Rocky nodded. "Other than you, who else does he have to listen?"

"I see what you mean."

Silence stretched between them for a few minutes. Mori opened his eyes and spoke once more. "I can't help but worry, Rocky," Mori replied. He leveled his gaze at his eldest grandson. "I sense a great amount of unease from you. Of hesitation. Is what was bothering you before, still bothering you?" Rocky shook his head. "Lying—"

"—I know, lying poisons you," Rocky interrupted. He noticed the irritation on his grandfather's face for interrupting and quickly apologized. "Sorry, grandpa. I just mean…I'd hoped by now you would've told Colt and Tum-Tum what's going on. I don't like keeping it from them."

"You can tell them if you'd like," Mori said.

Rocky shook his head. "It's not for me to tell."

"I didn't think you would."

"Sir?"

"The day of names ceremony, I named you Rocky because you're levelheaded. You know how to keep your cool. You're solid as granite rock; always know how to calm yourself down and work your way through any situation. I've watched you grow up, Rocky. And no matter what has come your way, I've seen you hold onto the same thoughts. Even when you were a baby, a young toddler trying to work out his building blocks and shapes, you were calmer than a lot of other young ones your age. You always figure out the best way to go about things and I believe you'll figure it out in this case as well."

Mori got off his stool and disappeared upstairs.

Rocky watched him go, sighing.

He'd figure it out? Sure. How was he going to figure out how to tell his best friend that he was sure Harding was targeting _him_?


	30. Making Plans

**Chapter Thirty**

* * *

Rocky hated going to the pizza parlor when he wasn't scheduled to work. Didn't even really like the idea of ordering pizza when he wasn't working, from having to be around it so much; seeing it from start to finish. Sometimes, even the smell of pizza got to him—and he couldn't quite understand everyone's obsession with the food—but the pizza parlor was the best place for him and his friends—old and new—to get together rot figure out what they were going to do about Harding.

And, if Rocky was going to tell Jason that he was the one being targeted, then it was probably a good idea that he was around his friends. There was strength in numbers, and, so far, things had only happened when it was just the two of them. And not even JJ would be stupid enough to attack them _again _in the same pizza parlor he'd attacked them before when they were young.

Rocky drummed his fingers on the table top, looking around the pizza parlor as they waited for everyone to arrive. Colt and Tum-Tum were already picking at the pizza they'd ordered for the table as they waited. For the first time in a long time, Tum-Tu wasn't inhaling the slices by himself. He picked at the pepperoni that sat on top of the slices, sliding them into his mouth every few times, but otherwise just picked.

They were really just as nervous as he was, about what they were going to tell their friends, or they were simply taking in the seriousness of what was going to happen.

"Are you sure?" Rocky looked over at Colt, lifting his eyebrows in question. Colt's eyebrows furrowed together in response. "Are you sure he's after Jason and not us?" Rocky nodded once more. "I don't get it."

"You will," Rocky replied. He scratched at his forehead. "It's just a theory, anyway." But he was so sure about it, that it wasn't _just _a theory. It was fact. There was a lot more going on than they originally thought. They only thing they had to figure out was how to keep everyone safe, and how to stop Harding once and for all.

If there was a way to stop him.

"What were you and grandpa talking about?" Tum-Tum asked quietly.

The sudden change in conversation topic made Rocky freeze. But only for a moment. He sucked in a deep breath and looked to the side before saying, "I'll tell you later." Which was the truth, he really would tell them later. It wasn't something he wanted to keep secret for a long time, it truly was starting to poison him. He looked at his grandfather with different eyes ever since he learned the truth, didn't like leaving the house at times, wondering if the time he went out to hang with friends or deal with Harding that it'd be the last time he saw his grandfather alive.

Not to mention all the pressure from school. He had to meet with the guidance counselor again, to give an idea of what it was he wanted to pursue. He had to make the choice soon. He had to determine if he was going to put his focus on UCLA or into Washington State. He could apply to both, could work toward both, there were people in the years before that applied to five, six, seven colleges just because they could and they wanted the choice, and they wanted to figure things out.

But how did you figure things out when your life was run for you?

Rocky's knees started to bob up and down, as it always did when he started to think about school, college, and what his parents wanted out of him. It'd started to happen a lot, lately. One minute he'd be minding his own business, working on some homework or editing a photo, and the next thing he knew, he was out of his body, his mind was buzzing, his hands were tingling, his chest felt tight and he wondered if it what it truly felt to die. He hadn't felt the intense sense of panic in a long time, not since the first few nights after things with Snyder had died down.

That's when he realized how close things had become; with men who wouldn't hesitate to shoot him. It took a while for the adrenaline of the adventure wore off. When he realized that he had real guns pointed at him the entire time, where Snyder really was going to turn the gun around on them and shoot, not only their grandfather, but maybe him and his brothers as well. He panicked and worried that something else was going to happen, that someone else may try to target them before the day even ended.

Then he saw his father, and how he was reacting to it. Sam had broken down, apologized to Jessica over and over again about how his job and his lifestyle had made it so that their boys were a target for someone who wanted to get back at him for doing his job. It made them paranoid, made it so that their parents looked after them at every second and every turn. They moved. Twice. Put in the best security system. Their mother came to school every day to make sure they were where they needed to be, drove them home, stayed at every practice.

And it was because of that, that Rocky made sure that he really honed how much he lived up to his ninja name. Had to take on the responsibility to protect his brothers even more than he had before. The therapy helped, having multiple sessions where they could talk as a family and by themselves, and after time it wasn't needed as much. They scaled back. The threats weren't as big.

_We became too complacent, _Rocky thought.

Colt frowned. "Rock," he started.

"I'll tell you later." Rocky flicked his gaze toward the door to the pizza shop as his friends started to file inside. They'd probably all came together, he realized; Emily, Jo, Jason, and Brett. Either that or Jason had, once again, bummed a ride. Rocky half expected to have a text on his phone saying Jason's car blew up on the way to the shop. And not just from Harding's influence either. "I promise."

"Nice to see that you saved us some pizza this time," Jo remarked as she sat down. She gave a small smile, steepling her fingers together. Though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. It was the first time, Rocky realized, that Jo seemed to be really taking in the seriousness of what was going on. Or had sensed it through the message he sent.

Jo had always been in tune to the feelings, emotions, senses, and auras of things around her. They'd seen it firsthand when they first met her, he'd seen her gentle spirit slowly sour as they watched the excavators move piles of trash and garbage all around her land. Saw it as she explained what was happening to her people, then saw her spirit come back the second they decided they were going to help her out. Jo took on the feelings of everyone around her, so much so that Rocky was surprised she was still able to be so strong due to it.

"I'm not very hungry," Tum-Tum replied.

"Uh-oh," Emily remarked quietly. "That's not a good thing." She pulled her hair back from her face with a headband and looked at each of the boys. "I'm assuming this is why you asked us to do some research before we all came here?"

Brett's eyes widened behind his glasses. "You all needed to do some research, too?"

"Okay." Jason held up his hands, ceasing all conversation and looked Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum directly. "What's going on? You guys are acting even weirder than usual. And believe me when I say you're already pretty weird."

Rocky took in a deep breath, hesitating for a moment. Took that moment to decide what was the best course of action to move forward. The truth was always better than a lie, but how much of it was best? Especially one they heard _everything_…

"Okay." Rocky focused on his best friend. "I think Harding is after you."

Jason snorted loudly. "That's a joke."

"I'm being serious.

"So am I. It's a joke." Jason leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms, sticking his hands in his armpits. He stared at Rocky for a long moment, who stared back at him. "Okay, Sam, I'll bite. What makes you think this guy is after me?"

"Which is totally crazy, by the way," Emily added.

"I thought so too," Colt agreed. He ran a hand through his hair. "Until he pointed out everything Tum and I hadn't thought of." He rolled his eyes. "Of course," he added under his breath. Rocky ignored the jab that came his way, used to it by that point. He'd come back to it later.

"It me a while to figure it out," Rocky said slowly. He gestured towards his brothers. "At first, I was convinced as everyone else that Harding and JJ were coming after us. For the same reason that Snyder had wanted to come after us in the first place—"

"—To get back at your dad?" Jason asked.

"He doesn't have anything to do with this," Rocky said patiently. "At first, we thought Harding wanted to get back at us simply to get back at us. For revenge, for having made it that he lost everything." He nodded to Jo. "If it weren't for us, Jo's dad would have been missing for who knows how long. Harding would've gotten away with dumping his illegal toxins. And then they may have retaliated against Jo, Selena, and Chief Roundcreek because of their protests and demanding to know what happened to Charlie."

"Well, we already knew about that," Colt said with a tinge of sarcasm to his tone. "Jos' already been arrested once. How do we know she, Cloud, and the rest of her tribe aren't just going to suddenly disappear."

"Because his money's in the media," Emily spoke up. She reached into her purse, that was hung off the side of her chair, and pulled out a few papers. She shifted through them before sliding them into the middle of the table, pushing the pans of pizza aside. She tapped at the articles with her fingertip. "There's been only small, very small articles about the protest and the arrests made outside of MedoCal. The only way things like that would be blacklisted would be if someone with a lot of money had a stake or a big payment in the company that's reporting the news. I could only find a few blogs posts and tiny news articles about it." She shrugged apologetically and Jo. "And, I hate to say it, but the minority angle doesn't help either."

Jo nodded in agreement. "It's the same issue we faced when trying to get to Harding the first time," she explained. "Because we're minorities, because we're first nation, people don't care. History has proved that."

"Which is what Harding was hoping," Rocky continued. "The less people cared about that," he lifted his fingers in apology to Jo, and kept going, "The less they're going to report on it now. Which worked. There was been almost no interest in MedoCal at all."

"Okayy…" Jason's eyes narrowed. The almost permanent smile on his face slowly faded. "What does that have to do with me?"

"The less there is for negative attention, the less people are going to look into it," Emily explained. "So MedoCcal could do what they want."

"Exactly," Rocky broke in. "So Harding had that in his pocket and knew how to work it. Which made it easier for him to start up MedoCal in the first place. But he needed investors." He pointed to Jason. "That's where your mom and dad come in."

"They invested in MedoCal?"

"We didn't realize that until you were talking to the Jacksons, explaining everything your mom and dad invest in. You mentioned startups and different longform businesses, so Colt asked Brett to look into it."

Brett let out a sigh, folding his arms. "That's where things got interesting," he explained. "I thought it was just your parents' investment into MedoCcal that was interesting. It was a big part as to why MedoCal was able to start up so quickly while Harding was in prison. But I hacked into the site and, well…" Brett trailed off, chewing his lower lip. "The Ninja Tournament that you guys entered, that MedoCal sponsored?" He shook his head. "It wasn't real."

Emily, Jo, Jason, Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum all reacted the same way, with wide eyes of shock. Rocky's heart hammered against his ribcage, hearing the knew. He hadn't known that, hadn't expected it, didn't even think it was a possibility. If the tournament was fake…how did their grandfather sign up for it? And, more importantly, did that mean that Tum-Tum's win wasn't real?

And his loss against Colt…

Rocky glanced toward Colt, who looked back at him, probably wondering the same thing. Thinking of what would happen if they were to really face off against each other.

"All the people who entered…some of them might've been real competitors, others were basically tricked, but a lot of them were hired. Harding used the money from the tournament to siphon into off-shore accounts as well as to put into MedoCal to throw off anyone who may have looked into things. The more he does that, the harder it would be to prove that it's his accounts that he'd putting the money into."

"You mean you can't find out?" Colt frowned.

Brett had been one of the people he'd never known to not be able to figure something out. He'd been part of the MGM—Mentally Gifted Minors—program since he'd bene tested in grade school. And, often, Colt was jealous of the things that Brett was able to do in his classes. Brett had a free period that anyone within the MGM had to use to study their own independent projects that matched their intellectual level.

It was what made him interested in computers in the first place, wondering how it worked from the pieces being put together to the different codes and diodes that spoke to each other to ultimately have a computer run. Not to mention understanding how websites and the internet worked from the inside out.

If Brett couldn't figure out where all the money was going, then they were surely sunk.

"I mean, I _could_," Brett said slowly. He scratched the back of his neck before adjusting his glasses. "But that might take more time than you'd think. It's not like I just type random codes into a computer and I can hack into an offshore account. Not to mention the legalities with it all."

"And that's why we asked all of you're here today," Rocky said. He took in a deep breath. "Because we need your help, if we're going to stop Harding and help Jason…then we need it." He held up his hands. "And we need the Jacksons, too."

"Yeah, we're going to train them in ninja," Tum-Tum agreed. "Their dad's name needs to be cleared, too, and they want to do whatever they can to help us out. They can get us into MedoCal, into their dad's stuff, and even after that, we think it's a good idea if they learn ninja. Grandpa does, too."

"So we just gather your information and you'll teach them how to fight?" Emily asked, rolling her eyes. "Great, well, if I get kidnapped again, at least I'll know a way to help."

"You're not going to get kidnapped again," Jason reassured her. "Because they're not after you, they're after me remember? Which, by the way," he wiggled a finger in the air. "You still haven't told me why you think they are."

"Because of your parents," Colt said bluntly. "We think he's trying to get as much money out of them as he can, and they've either refused, or they're using you as collateral." Jason lifted his eyebrows, but his defensive stance; raised shoulders, tightening of the jaw, slowly relaxed as he took in everything, they told him. "They watched us long enough to know who our friends are and knew the best way to get to us. The day at the ice cream parlor, they thought you would've been with Rocky that day because Rocky is always giving you a ride to school."

"And they recognized your car because of that," Rocky agreed. "Which is why they knew it was your car they were trying to run off the road." He looked his best friend in the eye. "They're going to keep working to get you until we, either, expose Harding, or they bleed your parents dry."

"Well, good luck with that." Jason spread his hands. "We don't know where my parents are at any given time."

"And that's why they're going after you," Brett remarked. "It makes good business sense. If there's a partnership that's been going on and one can't be found, the other has to take on the burden of the weight." Jason glared at him. "Look, it's not like anything is really going to you."

"Not while we're around," Colt added.

"Great. My own personal bodyguards." Jason slouched in his seat, resting his cheek in his palm.

Rocky studied him, trying to figure out what he was really feeling. Was he scared? Alarmed? Worried? Annoyed? He'd already been taken away from his home, but to know he had to be extra cautious? He shifted his gaze to Jo, who frowned as she looked at Jason as well, seeming to take on the energy he was radiating.

"They're just trying to help you, Jase," Emily said gently. She shook her head. "We all want to help you, and Jo, and the Jacksons…we all just want this to stop." She looked at Rocky. "And we'll help you anyway we can."

"You've already done all you can to help us," Rocky said gratefully. "Everything else is just…waiting for them to strike before we do."

"A ninja never strikes first, but he can defend himself," Tum-Tum agreed, saying the words of wisdom their grandfather had imparted on them since they first started their ninja training. It had been something Sam was always worried about, that they only did martial arts so they could learn how to fight. But martial arts was more than attacking anyone who bothered them, it was mainly about learning a connection between mind, body, and spirit and deescalating situations than being on the offense.

Emily opened her mouth to say something, stopped and shook her head. She reached out for a piece of pizza, her nose wrinkled, then she pushed it back toward Tum-Tum, who had picked off all the pepperoni and cheese from the top of the slices without anyone noticing. Tum-Tum's eyes widened in surprise when he saw the aftermath of his subconscious eating.

He blushed, lowering into his seat. "Sorry."

"It's alright, Tum, I'll just order another one for us." Emily glanced at Jason. "Or maybe two, one for us an done for him." She pushed back her seat and stalked up to the counter to put in an order.

Silence stretched over the table.

Jo got up and moved to the other side of the table to sit next to Rocky. He waited for her to speak. "Jason's going through it," she said. "But he can handle it. We can all handle it, you're asking us to do something that we never thought we'd have to do before."

"I know," Rocky agreed.

"And…I get the feeling that you're going to sideline Em when the going gets tough," Jo continued.

Rocky twisted his mouth to the side, hoping he wasn't too obvious about it. Emily had really helped, using her journalistic skills to figure things out about the media but…it was different. That wasn't going to help as things went forward. Brett had the knowledge to hack into, almost, everything. Jason was the one they were trying to protect, and Jo was the one who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer when it came to finding her father.

"Do you trsut her?" Jo asked.

"Yes," Rocky replied. Easily. Quickly. He trusted her with everything.

"And you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Differently." Jo noticed Rocky's immediately hesitation and titled her head to the side. She wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. Pressed forward with a firm, "How?"

Tingles in his fingertips. Rocky ran a hand over his mouth, then gave her a small smile. "You know, you're not helping."

"Or I am, and you don't want to admit it." Jo shrugged. "I'm not going to make you talk about something you don't want to talk about. But there's more than enough to reason for you to see that you can't do everything yourself."

"You're not the first person to tell me that," Rocky said. "Not recently, anyway."

"So how come you can't take that advice?"

Because he was getting mixed messages from everywhere. He didn't have to do everything on his own…and yet he was about to make one of the biggest decisions of his life, on his own. Of which would still affect everyone around him. Would affect him the greatest of all. Ninja things…he could handle, he could deal with that. It was mostly finding out some sort of injustice that he could correct within a few seconds of thought. With people and a skill set behind him that he'd been learning and honing for years.

Nothing could prepare him for what was coming up next.

Rocky didn't have an answer for her. But Jo didn't expect an answer, he knew that. She simply pressed a hand to his shoulder and went back to her seat. Conversation slowly started again, there was no need to discuss anything else. Jason knew the truth, there was nowhere for him to hide. He was already going staying with the Douglases, all they had to do was tell Sam of their suspicions and things could move on from there. They could live life normally until, sooner or later, Harding was taken down.

Though Rocky knew Harding wouldn't go down without a fight, and it wouldn't take long for him to strike.

It was just a matter of time.

"Rocky?"

Rocky lifted his eyebrows, turning to face Emily. She smiled gently. "You really do need to relax, you know," She said. "Everything's going to be fine." She nodded to Jason, who had his own pan of pizza in front of him and was already nibbling away at one slice, his appetite slowly coming back. Or, Rocky was sure, he was thinking it was probably going to be his last meal and he may as well make the best of it. "We don't know what's going to happen."

"I think our track record speaks for itself," Rocky reminded her.

"Okay…then we don't know what's going to happen until it does. I've seen you do this each time something _good _happens to you. You can't really enjoy it because you're waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"I'm just being realistic."

"You're being pessimistic."

"I'm planning ahead."

"And how far into the future do you want to plan?" Emily looked away for a minute, picking up her napkin and started to tear it into tiny pieces. He watched her movements, watched as she tore each piece into an even sized rip each time. "Do you have things set up for the next five years?"

Rocky ran a hand through his face, exasperated. Of course he did, it was already planned out for him. Within five years he'd be starting out his career with the police, moving up through the ranks like his father did, maybe even faster with a specialized degree. "I don't even know what I'm doing next month."

"How about I make it easier for you, then?" Emily stopped tearing the napkin apart and dropped her hands to her lap. "Do you want to go to the Homecoming dance with me?"


	31. Pressure Release

**Chapter Thirty-One**

* * *

There weren't many times that Colt had thought Rocky didn't know what he was doing. He was his older brother, and was always confident in what he said, how he said it, and his ideas that came about. There was no reason that Colt wouldn't have, almost blindly, followed anything that Rocky said. Even to the point that a part of himself felt guilt when he had to look his brother in the eye and declare that their grandfather had sold them out and that he was one of the bad guys when they were going through everything with Snyder.

And yet, Rocky had kept his cool, insisted that their grandfather was going to come help save them, and they just had to be patient and find a way out of their situation until he was proven right. Colt had thought Rocky had lost his mind, being so blind in faith with their grandfather despite all the evidence but was glad to have been proven wrong.

But now…well, he wasn't quite sure what to think of the way Rocky was handlings things. The way he always did, sort of slowly. Having to figure things out on his own before deciding what he and his brothers were going to do. As if Colt and Tum-Tum were supposed to just sit around and wait for his decision. Something they'd grown used to doing, if he were being a bit honest.

Now, with everything going on with Harding, it was one thing to wit to see what Harding truly was doing, collecting evidence along the way. But to sit and wait _that _long, to act like noting was happening, to make plans for a date to a dance when their friends were suffering? That he couldn't quite wrap his head around. Jo had been arrested, for God's sake, for trying to defend her family, and they were just supposed to wait?

Colt said as much when Rocky and Tum-Tum piled into his truck and left their parents' house with the explanation they were going to hang out with some friends. Colt didn't mind that part, the lying part. He lied to them all the time, found it to be easier than to tell the truth about his whereabouts and what he was really getting up to. Especially when all he had to do, to avoid the constant questions and annoyances, was bend the truth a little bit. Especially in a circumstance like this, when the 'friends' they were going to hang out with were the people they were supposed to be staying away from.

But also, probably, the only people who could help them, ultimately, stop Harding from hurting anyone else or ruining anymore lives.

Rocky rested his cheek in his upraised palm, watching as the road whizzed by them. "If we go straight to Harding right now, what do you think he's going to do?" He asked. "He recognizes Jo, recognizes us, probably has more than enough people watching our every move. We have ot lie low for a while before we go after him again."

"Do you really think that matters?" Colt tightened his grasp on the steering wheel, watching his knuckles turn white. "If he knows who we are, it's only a matter of time until he strikes us, so we should strike him first."

"If life really worked out that way, there'd a lot more war," Tum-Tum pointed out.

"Shut up, Tum, I wasn't talking to you," Colt snapped back.

Rocky lifted his head and gave his brother a withering look out the corner of his eye. Colt didn't even have to look at him to feel the burn of his gaze on him. As long as he didn't verbally reprimand him, Colt could keep his cool. "He's got a point," he said instead.

Colt snorted. "Since when does Tum-Tum have a point? Other than when he went on that crusade against mom saying vegetables don't belong in pancakes." He shrugged. "Not that you could taste it anyway."

"Pancakes aren't supposed to be green!"

"_Anyway," _Colt said sharply, changing the subject back to more important things. (The last thing he wanted was to get sucked into a conversation about everything Tum-Tum liked and disliked to eat. Again. Though his explanation as to why raw tomatoes and cooked tomatoes were two different things was very persuasive). "This whole thing has to do with Jo and Jo's people. And Jason. And you just want to sit back and wait for things to happen?"

"Would you rather just go in guns blazing and get taken out before without knowing what's coming?" Rocky shot back. He sat up straight in his seat, still stared ahead out the windshield. "Harding was in prison. You can make connections to stay alive in prison, practically have to. You know what dad's said, sometimes it's a bit more worrying for those who were normal before going to prison than gang members when they get back out. They get sucked into even more worrying things because they're naïve enough to drown in something they're not ready for." Rocky shrugged. "Plus, Harding has money and we all know that money talks."

"So he, what? Bought out a pharmaceutical company to regain his fortune, created a drug that would harm people more than help and…what?" Colt shrugged. "He gets away and rides off into the sunset with his new fortune? Ruining lives along the way?" He twisted his mouth to the side. "So, let's say that your suspicions are right and that's all that's been going on. That Harding may, in fact, be using Jason as collateral against his parents? Where are they and how come they haven't said anything?"

Rocky rubbed at his forehead. "You know they're extremely hard to get a hold of anyway," he reminded him. "So it's not that weird that we don't know where they are now." Colt glanced at his brother, pulling up to a stop light. Rocky looked more worried than he'd seen him before. "I don't want Jase or Jo to get hurt as much as you do, but I'm not going to make everything fall apart because you want to rush in. Like you always do."

Colt felt his temper get trigged within that second. He couldn't help his sarcastic response of, "I'm so sorry I'm not as perfect as you."

"Knock it off. I didn't say I was perfect."

"You didn't have to. You act like it all the time. Always telling us what to do. Always making the decisions without talking to us about it first. Always having to be right about everything and being perfect at what you do." Colt shook his head. "Even with the ninja tournament…" Rocky let out a short huff through his nose. "Even with that, we know as well as you do that you wanted to win as badly as me and Tum did—"

"—But I was the only one who won," Tum-Tum pointed out with a giant grin that Colt could see in the rearview mirror. Either his little brother didn't understand the seriousness of the situation around them—or the tension—or he was really doing his best to lighten the mood. Either way, it didn't help.

"But you had to be the good guy and not say anything. Acting as if it were nothing. As if none of it mattered when it clearly did." Colt wasn't quite sure _why _but there was something about the way their grandfather had finally given them permission to fight within one of the tournaments that was different. He'd pushed back against it for years and then…?

"So? What does it matter now, Colt?" Exasperation started to creep into Rocky's tone. "Why does it matter if I didn't want to show that I wanted to win? It's not my mission in life to make you feel bad. Quite the opposite, really."

"Oh please."

"Why accuse me if you don't want to hear the truth?"

"The truth is that you don't want to do anything unless you get your name plastered over everything? _You _believed in grandpa the whole time with Snyder. _You _wanted to go to Japan. _You _were the one who decided we were going to help Jo. And _you _were the one who just _had _to jump in and save the day at Mega Mountain."

"Are you done?" Rocky asked calmly.

Colt smacked the steering wheel with his hand again. "Damn it, Rock! What is it going to take to actually have you _care _about something?" He demanded. "To actually care about things and let us see it, instead of having to be so goddamn _strong _all the time."

"I don't know, Colt. Maybe when you stop being such an ass about things you don't understand."

_Finally, he cracks, _Colt thought. He looked at Tum-Tum once more, who watched the two, head shifting back and forth as if he were watching a tennis match. Tum-Tum chewed his lower lip but didn't say anything in response. Colt envied him in a way, he was the youngest and wasn't thought of much in the decisions they made. He could sit back and have things decided for him, but he also saw the good in everyone and was able to empathize with the reasons—however arbitrary—they came up with to fuel whatever it was they were doing.

"Then stop treating us like we don't!"

"I told you everything I know." Rocky's jaw twitched, teeth clenching together. He shook his head. "The way you're acting…it's like you think I have everything in my life figured out. Planned to a 'T'. That every decision I make is all just to spite you. I wish my life were that simple." He paused for a moment. "I'm not that petty."

"Unless you let me win again," Colt mumbled. He didn't mean for it to slip out. It just happened. Honestly, he thought he was over it. It was something that'd happened in the summer, and, technically, wasn't even real. As they'd found out later. The realization of it hurt him more than he thought it would have. Not just because it was something else they'd gotten tricked into, but because their grandfather had been tricked as well.

Even Tum-Tum muttered a quiet, "Uh-oh."

Rocky shook his head, and for a long moment Colt wasn't sure if he would respond. "Which part of that idea bothers you the most?" Rocky finally asked. "That you might not have won fair and square? Or that you actually beat me? Isn't that what you always wanted?"

"I wanted a fair fight."

"And you got one."

"Rocky, you're my brother, I know when you're lying."

"I'm not—"

"—and I know when you're pulling your punches and when you're actually trying to beat me and Tum." Colt turned sharply, speeding his truck into the driveway and turned off the ignition. The silence that cut through the cabin was deafening. "I'm not mad I won. I know I can beat you. I'm mad that you can't admit that you didn't _want_ to win."

"Colt…" Rocky trailed off.

"Grandpa always says honesty is the best way to grow as a man." Rocky pressed his lips together, keeping himself from sarcastically asking if that worked for his brother, who was so honest that he could be a jerk sometimes. Colt continued as he said, "And that lying will do nothing but poison your insides." He paused. "He also says that coffee will poison your insides, but…" Rocky managed a brief smile. It disappeared when Colt continued saying, "I don't want to see how you turn out if you keep it up."

He pumped open the door to the truck and jumped out, nearly whacked himself in the face when he lowered his seat so Tum-Tum could tumble out. Rocky got out the passenger side and with a silent head tilt, motioned for Tum-Tum to leave the older brothers alone. Tum-Tum quickly did as he was told, making Colt roll his eyes.

_Goody two-shoes to the left and right of me, _he thought. Rocky did everything their parents expected him to and Tum-Tum got away with nearly everything. Nevertheless, Colt folded his arms and watched as Rocky turned toward him. Rocky looked at him for a minute, then caught him off guard when he asked, "What's a ninja?"

Colt blinked once. Twice. Then rolled his eyes. "Come on, don't start acting like grandpa." But Rocky motioned with his hand and Colt sighed, folding his arms. "A ninja is one who can use everything around him to trick his enemies," he recited in a dull tone, as if reciting a poem as mandatory school work. "He's fast and he is friendly to his environment."

"A ninja is honest and good. His mind, body and spirit are one," Rocky agreed. "He has self-control. He has discipline." He motioned behind him. "And Tum's part would be how the ninja loves nature and is friends with it." He raised his eyebrows. "Did you ever notice that grandpa made us learn each part of it specifically?"

"What do you mean?"

"The part of a ninja being able to use everything around him? Being fast and free?" Rocky motioned to Colt once more. Colt tilted his head, listening to his brother carefully. Rocky then motioned to himself. "Where a ninja is honest and good, has self-control, and discipline?"

"Explains why the boring part went to Tum," Colt joked.

Rocky smiled. "It's the three major parts that make up a ninja. The key strengths that grandpa holds, all the time." Rocky then frowned. "What does it mean if we're only able to hold onto one or two parts of what being a ninja is?" He looked Colt in the eye. "I wish I could tell you that things in my life were easy, but there's more of what's going on than you know."

"Are you going to be cryptic about it all night or…?" Colt trailed off, working hard to not sneer.

Rocky sucked in a deep breath through his nose. "I'm trying to tell you," he said evenly. "Mom and Dad don't even know I know. Grandpa told me because I noticed, because I asked him. Otherwise, he never would've told me." Colt waved a hand, urging him forward. "Grandpa's dying."

All the wind was immediately taken out of Colt's sails. His bravado fell. The anger and annoyance toward his brother instantly morphed into concern for the most important person in his life. He looked to the side, checked to make sure that Tum-Tum hadn't heard—he was safely far away, up on the porch and ringing the doorbell with one hand, head bent over his phone with the other. Then he looked back to Rocky, eyebrows coming together.

"You sure?"

"Why would I lie about that?" Rocky shrugged.

Colt knew he wasn't lying. He was telling the truth when he told Rocky he knew his older brother's tells when he lied. None of them showed there. Rocky simply looked at him, calmly—infuriatingly calmly—waiting for his response. Or a blowup. Whichever came first.

"How long have you known?"

"Not long."

"And mom and dad don't—"

"—They don't I know," Rocky repeated. He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't even know how long _they've _known about it. Knowing them…" he trailed off.

Colt knew what he meant. Knowing his parents, they had kept it a secret for a long time. Not wanting to worry them. Even when their grandmother was getting sicker and sicker, they reassured them that everything was okay and "Grandma will see you soon" but never admitted how ill she was. Until it was too late. Part of Colt hated that they'd handled things that way, but another part of him understood. It was grandpa, though. The greatest and _strongest _person they knew, how would it help them at all if they weren't in the know of what was going on. When he was living under their roof and they'd see it every day, if he were to get worse and worse?

"Well, how sick is he?" Colt pressed.

"I don't know."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"He asked me not to," Rocky replied. Then he paused, twisting his mouth to the side. "That's not true, actually. He didn't say whether I could or couldn't, I decided not to." His eyebrow quirked up. "Perk of being a big brother, I suppose."

"Then why'd you decide to tell me now? And it better not be one of those sappy 'because I'm leaving and we don't have much time left' brotherly moments that I hate so much." Colt laughed when Rocky's face screwed up. "I know you hate it, too."

"It just felt like the right time."

If that was some sort of an apology, Colt took it. They didn't apologize to each other too often. Never actually said the words 'I'm sorry' unless they were forced into it. The exercise where they were forced to, to be a good person, to understanding others' feelings was an exercise left in childhood. After that, they were left to their own devices. So 'I'm sorry' only came through when their roughhousing got to be a bit too rough and the words 'don't tell mom, you can hit me back' quickly followed after. Sometimes, it was a grumbled apology to keep Tum-Tum from getting too sensitive over things. But he didn't remember very much of having to apologize to Rocky for his attitude, for pushing back against him, all because with one look Rocky forgave him, understood.

Just as he did then.

"I know mom's been taking him to a lot of doctor's appointments," Colt mumbled. "And his moving in…" Colt shook his head. "I just thought that was mom worrying like she usually did." He let out a long breath, bringing his hands up through his hair, knocking it out of place. He closed his eyes, trying to think through things. His mind was muddled. "_That's _why he wanted to let us do the tournament," he realized. "Because he might not ever have another chance."

"Considering this last one was fake," Rocky added. "He might not..."

'What does that mean, going forward? With Harding and everything?" Colt didn't say it out loud, but he meant 'what does it mean if we get in trouble?'. Would their grandfather be there to help them out? To save them again?

"Just means that we'll have to go through with the plan that we currently have." Rocky stepped to the side and moved toward the front porch, seeing that Tum-Tum had already been let inside and that it was now safe to join him. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "And hope it works."

"Yeah."

The two stepped onto the porch when the front door opened again. Reed pulled the door open wider and smiled at the two boys.

"Thanks for letting us come over, Mr. Jackson," Rocky said gratefully. Colt didn't add, 'thanks for also not telling our dad' but somehow felt he didn't have to.

"Well," Reed said with a smile and a light chuckle. "If you're going to beat up my kids, I may as well feed you first, yeah? Come in."


	32. Keep Your Friends Close I

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

* * *

Initially, while thinking about dinner that day, Rocky worried how he would come across. Would it be obvious he still was suspicious about Reed's involvement with MedoCal? That he wondered if there was a chance that the friendly dinner was a means to be in one place at the same time so to get rid of them sooner? He wondered if it made him a bad person for being that worried about it.

Yet as the night went on, Rocky found himself slowly opening more and more. Reed and Renee were nice. They asked questions to get to know them. At first, Rocky knew Colt felt the same way about his suspicions, his worries. Because he answered every question in short, stunted answers, eyes practically narrowing to slits when they turned to be a little more personal than the ones before. Tum-Tum, on the other hand, practically glared at his brothers every time they tried to hold themselves back from response. It was their idea to teach the Jacksons ninja, Tum-Tum had reminded them of that on the way to the house that night.

Nevertheless, Rocky slowly found himself confiding in them with the questions they asked. They were the same he'd received many times before; college, his plans for it, after it, what he was doing in his senior year. But he found himself answering the questions he was asked with ease.

"Senior year is a pretty big year," Reed pointed out, spearing the pile of green beans that sat to the side of his plate. "Sure, there's lots of tests and papers, and getting ready for college. But there has to be something fun that you're interested in."

"Well, I try to keep myself focused with my ninja training especially," Rocky said. "So that I don't let things like that stress me out too much." He bobbed his head. "I play basketball for school. And we all play baseball for the city team."

"Your dad coaches it, doesn't he?" Renee asked. She brushed her hair back from her face and motioned to her husband. "Reed only lasted coaching Julius's soccer team before realizing the stress with the others weren't going to be worth it." She laughed when Reed shot a lifted eyebrow toward her.

"That didn't stop him from being the loudest parent at games," Patrick pointed out, the side of his mouth turning up in a lopsided smile. "May as well have been our coach, yeah?" He gestured toward himself. "And we turned out fine!"

"I reckon the jury's still out on that," Reed joked, making Patrick laugh but the others to roll their eyes.

"Who's Julius?" Colt asked.

"Our eldest," Renee explained.

Reed's eyes popped open as if it were new information. "We have—love, since when do we have six kids?" He asked. "When did our family get so big? Did we put up a sign outside that says, '_Jackson Hotel; We turn nobody away'_?"

Rocky, Colt and Tum-Tum smiled, laughing quietly to themselves while the Jacksons all laughed uproarisly. Renee merely shook her head and said, "Ignore him. He likes to think he's funny." She then made a sound of disbelief and made a move to cover her mouth at their curious expressions. "Oh, we must not have mentioned. He's in college back in Australia, didn't make the trip over with the rest of us."

"And I thought we drove mom crazy, and there's just three of us," Tum-Tum said. He tapped his chin. "I don't think I can imagine what it'd be like if I had three more brothers."

"As long as they're not all like you it should be fun," Colt said.

"Shut up, spaz."

Reed and Renee laughed.

Rocky smiled politely. He thought for a moment then asked, "What does he study?"

"Sports Management." Reed shrugged and glanced toward his wife. "We always wanted him to be a doctor, but he's had basketball in his blood ever since he could walk…and ran right into the middle of a pickup game in the park." He started to laugh. "Bloke nearly got his head knocked off, but he was enamored since."

"So, Rocky, what do you want to major in?" Renee asked. "Your parents mentioned that you're going in some AP classes in school. Is there anything there that's caught your attention?"

"Is it obvious our mum is a teacher?" Noah asked, quiet voice dripping with sarcasm.

But, Rocky noted, it was evident he was proud of her. That all of them were proud of what their parents did, and weren't embarrassed by it; he would probably avoid his mom if she was a teacher at her school. Only for the very slight potential for her to embarrass him in some way. He knew Colt would at least duck his head and pretend he didn't know her, especially as he was her favorite. Tum-Tum would've treated it like the best thing in the world…until he realized why I wouldn't be.

Rocky's attention shifted to the question he was asked. Paused.

The dreaded question finally came up gain. What did he want to do in college? Where did he want to go? What did he want to do after? How many times was he going to hear those questions? When were people going to ask him other, more mundane things? Like, whether he was enjoying all his current classes. What did he think of the Dodgers in their last game? Hell, what was his favorite color? (As if that weren't already obvious).

"My parents eventually want me join the FBI," Rocky replied, almost as if he were reading it off a sheet that'd been set up for him when he was born. A checklist of things he'd accomplished to make sure he did, in fact, end up following in his father's footsteps. In which, many ways, it had been. "So, criminal law, criminal justice. Things like that. AP classes pads my application, but also prepares my critical thinking. They're alright, nothing too bad." He noticed the two give each other a look, couldn't stop himself before asking, "What do you think?"

"I think I asked the wrong question."

Rocky blinked in surprise. Confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Sorry, mate, but we couldn't help but notice you keep saying what your parents want," Reed pointed out. He gestured toward Rocky, spinning his fork around his fingers. "Last I checked, you're the one who's going to uni."

Rocky started to answer, stopped. They'd hit close to home with that one. Was he really that obvious? Or was it just that they were paying attention? "They're paying the bills," he mumbled, cringing as soon as the words came from his mouth. He quickly recovered saying, "And it is a good path to go." Out the corner of his eye, he saw Colt and Tum-Tum exchange a glance. "I'm sure you've heard about everything we've ever been up to, obviously we can't seem to leave things lone." He flashed the charming smile that worked on all his teachers.

Reed quickly held up his hand. His eyes grew wide, quickly realizing his mistake. "I didn't mean they were giving you bad advice. They obviously care a great deal about you. And UCLA is a good school." His eyebrows twitched upwards, the only part of him visible when he lifted his bottle of beer and pressed it to his lips. "Is that why you chose it?"

Caught again.

Feeling himself blushing, Rocky said, "They both went there. I grew up looking through the yearbooks. I know all the fraternities on campus, even know the school song." He laughed to himself. "I could probably tell you everything about that school if I tried hard enough."

"You don't sound bitter at all," Riley remarked, then lifted her gaze innocently when both of her parents turned glares her way. "I'm just saying, mate, life is about choices, and right now, I choose not to have this conversation because it's not going to take long before they start to ask _us _what our plans are." She tipped her head toward her mother and father before getting to her feet. At the same time, Rhuben stood and the girls gathered their dishes from the table before Patrick, Noah, and Sydney moved to the cabinets for smaller dishes. "Right now, my plan is dessert."

That was perfectly fine with Rocky, he wanted to do _anything _but talk about school as it was. Relief lessened in his shoulders, grateful for the change in subject. His fingers tapped against his thighs, a precursor to his knees starting to bounce up and down, rapidly bouncing his weight against the balls of his feet.

"Would you like some?" Renee asked the boys.

Tum-Tum's head immediately shot up, eyes widening at even the thought. Colt laughed and motioned to his brother. "I think he's answered your question." Colt stretched his arms in front of him. "I wouldn't mind some."

Sydney's nose wrinkled. "Can you eat that much before ninja training?"

"It's never stopped Tum," Rocky remarked. This time Tum-Tum made a whining sound of annoyance. A noise that he'd made plenty of times throughout the years that, quite frankly, Rocky thought he'd grown out of. But there were still many things that surprised him about Tum-Tum, mostly with how he was able to handle the new curveballs life threw his way.

_How would he react if we told him the truth? _Rocky thought, watching as the boys took the dessert plates and filled each one with a piece of piece and ice cream. (Tum-Tum politely asked for a bigger scoop of ice cream atop of his plate, so big that Rocky almost didn't see the pie beneath it). _What would he do if we told him about grandpa? _Cry, probably, Rocky reasoned. Scream. Throw things. Throw his weight around. It was what got him into wrestling in the first place, he remembered. Tum-Tum was tired of people picking on him for whatever reason they could think of; his ninja name, his very crooked teeth, his pudge, his sensitivity. And while ninja helped him to learn how to defend himself, he was never to start a fight he couldn't finish it, wasn't supposed to use it as a work of aggression.

It was Mori who had suggested he learn how to wrestle, by _really _listening to Tum-Tum. And, it was obvious Tum-Tum was his favorite of the three. He was the most patient and understanding of Tum-Tum's waning attention, when he started to get "bored", or "tired", or "hot" and let him rest, while Rocky and Colt "who knew better" continued their training.

Maybe that was the start of everything. Maybe Mori had, somehow, sensed the time he had left, and worked to make sure that he wasn't too heavy handed on the lessons he was imparting on them when Tum-Tum came around. Maybe their grandmother's death had done that…she'd passed not long after Tum-Tum was born.

"I know the wallpaper is a little funny looking, but I don't think it's that interesting, Rocky." Rocky blinked, coming back to attention when he noticed Rhuben, who was sitting across from him, waving her hand in front of his face. He blinked hard, shaking his head to focus on what was being said around him, and smiled, feeling his cheeks flush.

His hands tapped against his thighs, only stopped when he picked up the fork and spun it through his fingers, as if they were nun-chucks moving in the palm of his hand. It, the image, instantly calmed him. He let out a breath and poked at the dessert to take a bite.

"So, how did you guys get into ninja?" Reed asked. "I mean." He waved his fork around his mouth. "We know your grandfather has taught you lot, you parents said as much when we were at the tournament. And it was really something seeing you guys up there doing your thing."

Rocky and Colt rolled their eyes when Tum-Tum turned a wide, cheesy smile their way. A reminder that he had won the competition when his two older brothers had not. It seemed to not make a difference to Tum-Tum that it was a fake tournament.

"It seems to be something you all take to task very fondly," Renee continued. "Is it something your whole family knows?"

Colt snorted loudly. Usually Rocky would have given him a look of reproach but couldn't help but shake his head at the thought. His father learning ninja, everything that went with it…it didn't just clash with his father, but it clashed with what he believed in, what the principles of his job taught him. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like to see his father interrogate one of his suspects by beating him up with elusive tricks and—maybe—a handful of jellybeans down the throat.

"I'll take that as a 'no'."

"I'd love to see dad actually take ninja seriously," Colt continued. "He thinks it's a waste of time." He didn't seem to notice the silence of all the Jacksons watching him closely. "They've fought about that for years. But grandpa still teaches us everything he can about it." He bobbed his head, then answered the second question asked. "Ninjas are usually born into being a ninja. The traditions are kept and passed down through the family. Usually they're trained from childhood."

"Mom says that grandpa taught her some ninja," Tum-Tum jumped in. "And that he also taught her about survival and poisons and stuff."

"She was just teasing you," Colt scolded him. "Do you _really _think grandpa would teach her all that and grandma wouldn't say anything?" He rolled his eyes. "Do you think grandpa would teach _us _something like that and mom and _dad _wouldn't say anything?"

"I have to say I don't really understand why your father would be so against it," Renee said kindly. "Any form of martial arts is athletic, teaches physical endurance and discipline."

"If _The Karate Kid _is anything to go by, yeah?" Riley replied.

"It's a lot of hard work," Rocky agreed. "A lot of long-distance running, climbing, weight lifting, swimming. Meditation…"

"You know," Colt broke in, making Rocky frown. "This is all starting to seem like an interview," Colt pushed his empty plate away and folded his arms. "When do we get to ask you some questions?"

A grin slowly stretched across Reed's face. "What else do you want to know? You already know where I work—and how bad the security is there." He laughed to himself. "You really gave those guys a run for their money. They've been shitting themselves since then, throwing in new security measures. They've even said they may put new monitoring devices on our computers." He noticed Sydney giving him a stricken look and said, "No worries, Little Man. I don't let you anywhere near my confidential stuff and Hardass would never be interested in what we're working on." He leaned back in his seat, pulling his cell phone out from his pocket. "Speaking of Hardass, that's him calling now."

Rocky sat up straight and looked to Colt, who did his best not to let anything on his face show. If JJ was calling then, there had to be something going on. And if there was something going on, it meant Harding was planning on doing something sooner rather than later.

"I don't want to bore you with this," Reed continued, not seeming to notice the three boys staring at him intently. "There's more interesting things in life…like you beating up my kids. I hope you really give it to them good, hopefully knock em down a peg, yeah?"

"Jack," Renee said in warning, though she smiled to herself.

"I'm just saying. Maybe it'll keep the house quite for more than five minutes." He turned to leave the room, bumping into the counter and knocking the stack of glasses off to the floor. The Jacksons barely moved at the loud sound of glass breaking. "Oops."

"Go take your call," Renee said with a wave of her hand. Reed smiled and left the room, putting the phone back to his ear. Renee stood, pushing back her seat, carefully stepping over the broken glass to go to the pantry and retrieve a broom and dustpan. "Don't mind me, I'm sure you all have a lot of work to do."

"So." Patrick leveled his gaze on Rocky. "What's the first lesson?"

"Uh…" Rocky reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn't really thought that far ahead, was more caught off guard with it coming so bluntly. Let alone the fact that he wanted nothing more than to sneak around the corner and hear what Reed was saying to JJ, which would ultimately be relayed to Harding.

As it was, it wasn't like there was some sort of a lesson plan you could come up with when you were going to teach ninja. It was ninja. It was something you felt. Something you lived and breathed. It was a part of you.

His thoughts suddenly shifted to his grandfather, and what he'd admitted to Colt that night. Their grandpa was dying, someday soon—maybe not too soon—he'd be gone. But, as Mori always said, he would always be with them.

And with that, Rocky smiled a little, remembering the first lesson that he'd ever taught him. The same lesson he'd taught Colt and Tum-Tum. And, from where he stood, Rocky could see the light smirks that came to their faces, knowing they remembered it, too. Remembered how they were trained—or, as it really went—tricked, into learning their first lesson.

_What was it, again? _Rocky thought, trying to remember what his grandfather had done to drive the point home. Oh yeah, he'd sent a strong tweak to Rocky's nose, after having gained his attention by a wiggling hand in front of his face.

"Lesson one, in ninja training," Rocky said, finding his voice was strong; calm, cool, and collected. "Expect the unexpected."


	33. Your Enemies Closer II

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

* * *

"What does mediation have anything to do with 'expecting the unexpected'?" Patrick used air quotes around the words, though he kept his eyes closed. "You're not going to cold clock me and call it an accident, are ya?"

"No, but I might if you don't shut up, loser," Rhuben mumbled.

"_You _shut up, jerk face."

Rocky sucked in a breath through his nose, while Patrick's siblings all shushed him. Rocky's lips twitched when he took in another breath to calm himself, to set his mind back into that blank space that let him completely relax. Able to be in tune with everything around him. He heard his brothers' quiet breathing, proud to find that they hadn't been broken out of their trances through Patrick's outburst.

Mediating could be strange, he understood for some people it wasn't easy for them to get to the calmest state that body could go into. Meditation was to go beyond the mind and experience essential nature; peace, happiness, ad bliss. It was, surprisingly, very hard for Rocky to be able to meditate when he was first learning ninja from his grandfather. Back when he was known as 'Sam' and, at five years old, started to notice how stressful his father's job was, how difficult it was for his mom to raise three young boys, only a few ages apart, and realized how often he was looking after his younger brothers when she needed to get work done.

His grandfather must have noticed it, for when he started his ninja training that day, Rocky was waiting for the next high kick that he would learn, having excitedly mastered the focus and strength needed for the lower ones, and tipped his head to the side, when his grandfather said he was going to sit down and clear his head.

What five-year-old could sit still long enough to do that?

Rocky already was a calm boy at that age, often being heralded by his mother that he was a very calm and easy baby as well. But even after five minutes, he felt himself starting to wiggle around, wondering what was taking so long. But day after day, his grandfather would continue to start and end his ninja training with meditation. Slowly, over time, he understood it and found it helpful to wipe away any stressors he didn't know he had. Eventually, he worked on it outside of his ninja training and found it the best way to improve the quality of his life.

And as he sat in the Jacksons' backyard, working on their first ninja lesson, he cleared his head. Felt all his stressors relax. Felt the uncertainty of whether they were training people who may turn around and stab them in the back with what they learned from him and his brothers. Just focused on the sound of the gurgling water in the pool behind the, focused on the way the light wind blew across the spacious backyard and over his skin. Focused on the way he could hear his brothers breathing quietly, almost completely silent, while the Jacksons worked to follow their lead.

Rocky waited ten minutes before allowing his eyes to open. He winced against the bright lights that lined the backyard and slowly, quietly got to his feet. Reaching over, he tapped Colt on the thigh, who then tapped Tum-Tum.

The three slowly, quietly got up. Hardly making a sound. That was another point of being a ninja, knowing when to be quiet and light on their feet. Knowing how to make themselves and their energies complete with the Earth.

Being friendly to the environment and letting it be friendly to them in response.

Rocky stretched out his arms in front of him and behind him. Then held his hands behind his back. Feet shoulder-width apart. Colt and Tum-Tum did the same. "Okay, now rise to your feet." He watched as the Jacksons opened their eyes and did as they were told. "Meditation is something we use to start and end each of our training practices. It helps us keep our mind, body, and spirit together as one so we can thank the Earth for everything it's given us." He smiled a little, remembering how the medicine woman at Jo's reservation had said something similar to him ages ago. He really needed to go back and visit her. Especially now that Harding had returned.

"It empowers us the way we work to empower it," Colt added. He lowered his head, brushing his hair back from his face. "And being able to tap into that meditate state can come into a pinch when you're sparring, when you're hurt"

"…or if you need to seriously defend yourself." Tum-Tum agreed. "And that starts out by knowing when and how to breathe." He placed his hand on his stomach, breathing deeply as he did so, to demonstrate. "To block out any distractions that can go on around you."

"Which _clearly _doesn't help Tum, because I think he's still eyeing the pie your mom made for dessert," Colt joked, making Rocky snicker, and Tum-Tum roll his eyes.

Rocky cleared his throat, steadied himself, and faced the Jacksons once more. He studied their faces as they looked back at him, all serious, watching him closely. For a moment, Rocky had the brief feeling that he was wrong, about everything. That Reed had _nothing _to do with what was going on at MedoCal, that he had nothing to do with the supposed Vendetta against Jo and her tribe, that he knew nothing about Jason's parents having been big investors with MedoCal. That they, truly, just wanted to help their father, who had shown nothing but kindness and hospitality to them that night.

He would've done the same, if anyone had accused his father of the same thing. Felt ashamed of the few times he stayed quiet when people accused the LAPD of being the biggest gang the citizens of LA had to face, despite how much he wanted to stand up and say how wrong they were. But hadn't thought there was anything to say.

But he wouldn't know until they found out the truth.

Expect the unexpected indeed.

Rocky stepped forward, taking the lead of the training. Glanced at his brothers, who looked back at him. Rocky's eyebrows twitched upwards in surprise before he faced forward once more. Surprise, that he wasn't getting any sort of push back for it. Nevertheless, he tried not to let nerves take him over. His grandfather was hard to replace, but he'd do his best.

"So, with every movement you make, you're going to focus on your breathing as you do it," Rocky explained. "Sort of like yoga; we'll start with the breathing techniques and a beginner's kata to go through. But the key thing to remember is the four pints that bring ninja together." He pointed to his heart. "'Your heart." Then his head. "Your mind." Then his chest. "Your body." Then to his heart. "And your spirit. When the four work together as one, a ninja cannot be beaten as it is those four points, combined, that make a ninja whole."

He cleared his throat, waiting or his brothers' input, and received silence in response. Rocky nodded once and continued. "So, we're going to start with a kata, or what is a formation, of beginner moves to get you started." He motioned to Colt and Tum-Tum. "Colt and Tum will demonstrate, and I'll make sure that you're doing the poses correctly. The first pose…you're going to breathe in deeply while bringing your hands up your chest and then position them toward the sky. Place your hands together in the shape of a triangle. Then you're going to turn tot eh side, extending your left arm, palm facing up, and, with your right hand, push out a forceful jab."

And so Rocky continued to talk the Jacksons through the katas. Patiently waiting through the questions and making sure that their form was correct. Through the high kicks and low kicks that went along with it, through the kiai's that expelled the power of the lungs and of the warrior. And through the sense of focus that needed to be contained through ninja. They worked for over an hour, repeating the steps until Rocky felt they truly understood it.

"Last thing is to stretch," Tum-Tum said kindly. He sat on the ground, spreading his legs so that he could lean forward and stretch his back out. "The last thing you want is to pull a muscle or get a Charlie horse when you're in the middle of a fight." He smiled sweetly toward his brother, who eyed him suspiciously. "Right, Colt?"

Colt rolled his eyes, leaving his gaze firmly on the moon as it hung in the sky above them. Nevertheless, he couldn't help the small smile that pricked at the corners of his lips. "I still won, didn't I?" He pointed out.

"Yeah, that was really impressive," Rocky replied. He sat along with his brothers, leaning forward to stretch out, his chest pressed firmly against the ground. He looked to the Jacksons as they sat as well. "Eventually, we want you to get to the point where you can lean forward and place your forehead on your…"

He trailed off, watching as the Jacksons leaned forward, far enough into a split, even further, and brought their hands above their heads to stretch. Rocky leaned back, his eyebrows furrowing together. Something, some little thing sitting in the back of his head. Something he'd seen before…

"Wow," Colt commented, blinking once. He brought his hand up to brush his fringe away from his eyes, eyebrows twitching upwards as the side of his mouth turned up. "You're really flexible. "You sure you haven't done any ninja before?"

Rocky glanced at Colt out the corner of his eye. Colt subtly shook his head, making Rocky understand. He was still asking questions, still trying to get an idea of whether they could be trusted. Just as he'd been mentally working out over the course of the night.

"No." Noah sat back, dusting off his hands before bringing his feet together in a butterfly stretch. "But we do a lot of gymnastics."

"That explains it."

Rocky hadn't realized he'd spoken until all eyes turned his way, and he felt himself blush. He cleared his throat, bringing up his legs from his stretch so that he could wrap his arms around his knees. He nodded toward Riley but looked at his feet when he said. "It explains how you were able to take down that guy in the ice cream shop that day."

Riley shrugged, bringing up a hand to run through her hair, no, to scratch her forehead, hiding the expression she made before dropping it again. She smiled modestly, though her eyes flashed with mischief when she said, "I just threw my weight around, yeah?"

"What weight?" Patrick teased. "A gust of wind could knock you over."

Rocky laughed along with Colt, Tum-Tum, and the Jacksons. Rhuben was the one who spoke up next. She ripped handfuls of grass out of the ground and said. "Mum and dad put us in a lot of activities to keep us busy, gymnastics was one of the only ones that stuck."

"Well, it'll come in handy with your balance and everything," Rocky pointed out. "It goes in hand with ninja training." He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering why that niggling feeling was suddenly gone.

"Right." Sydney pressed his chin in his hands, gazing up at the three boys. "So, what's the plan? I don't think teaching us ninja is going to be the only thing we should have in our defends when going after Harding, yeah?"

"We'll have to wait until he does something first," Colt said. His voice turned grim when he added, "And believe me, he's going to do something first."

* * *

Rocky held his breath, watching as Tum-Tum quietly closed the front door to the house behind them. Not wanting to make any noise that'd grab their parents' attention. The were no sounds of the late-night news coming from the TV, no sounds coming form the kitchen, and nothing from their father's office. If they were lucky, their parents and grandfather had turned in for an early night and they wouldn't have to field any questions.

If they weren't…well, it wouldn't have been the first time the boys had lied to their parents. It just would've been the second time they'd have done it that night. And there was only so much lying Rocky could handle before it started to eat away at him. It was why he refused to know anything that it took for Colt to sneak out when he was grounded, or when he found any of Tum-Tum's junk food stashes when he was supposed to be on a diet.

It was also why he made sure not to tell anyone any of the things that he got away with in his own life. Rocky glanced toward the living room once more then motioned for his brothers to go upstairs. They moved quickly and quietly while Rocky moved along the bottom floor of the house, being careful to turn off every light and make sure the door was locked. He stopped at the basement, seeing the light on and hearing sound come from below.

"That you, man?" He heard Jason call up quietly.

Rocky moved halfway down the stairs and leaned against the banister, watching Jason play a video game, blowing up whatever it was on screen. He had a headset around his neck and continuously glanced at the computer screen that was set up beside him. Rocky made sure not to go any closer, seeing he was streaming a game.

"Yeah, it's me."

"How'd it go?"

"Went well." Rocky leaned forward, stretching out his back. "Surprisingly well."

"Awesome." Jason flicked his hair from his face, letting gout a low growl when he knocked his character off-course on the screen and blew up a nearby hut. "Did you manage to lose for once in your life? You've got to tell me everything. I won't believe it 'til I see it."

Rocky rolled his eyes. "Colt's beat me before."

"Yeah, I mean, when you _didn't _let them win."

Rocky ignored the knee-jerk reaction to spit, "I didn't let him win!". Waited until he calmed down. "We just taught them a few katas, had them end by sparring. They learned pretty fast." Rocky couldn't help the next thought that came to mind. _Maybe a bit too fast. _Then he shook his head. A ridiculous thought.

It wasn't too weird for people to take to different athletic endeavors better than others. He and his brothers had taken to many parts of ninja very well. And then, there were those that seemed to be able to quickly make a career of the sort; Simon Biles came to mind, and many others who were natural talents at sports that others envied. As much as Rocky didn't care for Darren, he was also a natural talent in baseball, quickly becoming the Mustang's star player and vying for attention from scouts when a game was played, as much as some had come out to see Rocky.

"You must be a good teacher, then."

At that, Rocky snorted. He doubted it. He just repeated what his grandfather had ever told him. It was strange that he wasn't there, almost as if something were missing. He pushed away the dark thought that crossed his mind; that it was the point, that it was why Mori insisted, that he was working to get used to when Mori did, eventually pass away.

"I'm going to head up," Rocky said. He turned to leave, pausing, grasping the bannister tightly in his hand. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm be up once I'm done streaming."

"I mean—"

"—I'll call for you if I need a big, strong man to save me when a horde of evil ninjas come bursting through the windows."

Another roll of the eyes. But that time, Rocky laughed as he did so. "Get some sleep, Jase."

"Yes, dear."

Rocky went up to his room, pausing just slightly when he heard a muffled argument coming from his parents' room. He sighed and went to his desk, opening his laptop. Checking his email, he opened the photo attachments he received from Rhuben, even clearer pictures from the tournament than he had before. And a few others that she'd gotten from MedoCal.

He looked through them, looking for anything else that'd point toward JJ and Harding. He'd just looked

"What are you still doing up?" Sam's voice behind him made Rocky jump in surprise. He turned around to see his father leaning in the doorframe, rubbing at his eyes. "It's kind of late, did you just get back?"

"We made it before curfew," Rocky said.

"I can see that." Nevertheless, Sam glanced at his watch. Almost as if he were nervous. "Did you have fun with your friends?"

"You're starting to sound like mom." Rocky thought of the argument he heard, not of the words, but of the tone. They'd been arguing a lot lately. Then he noticed the way his father was dressed. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Oh!" Sam looked down, as if only noticing his clothes for the first time. "Uh…neighborhood watch." He eyed his son closely. "Did you want to ask me something?" His eyes shifted to just behind Rocky, making Rocky surreptitiously lean into his view.

"No, it's just…" Rocky leaned to the side, subtly pushing his laptop away from his father's eyes. If his father noticed, he didn't say anything. He licked his lips. "Well, the homecoming dance is coming up. You know, at the end of spirit week and everything. And Colt's big game and…" He looked at his father out of the corner of his eye, silently asking if he would be attending the game.

Sam hadn't had a great track record when it came time to attend to any of the boys' games, when it wasn't baseball. "Scheduling conflicts." "Something came up." "I've got a lot of work to do." "A big case came up." Rocky understood it all, had to understand it. So, he took it all with a brave face; a smile and a nod while inside he was trying not to be too angry that, once again, they came second to his job. _His job's important, _he'd always try to remind himself. But that meant nothing in the eyes of young boys who almost never saw their father for long stretches of time.

The pain of disappointment never fully went away.

"And?" Sam prompted. He tipped his head, studying his eldest son's face curiously. After a few seconds, his face nearly split in half with how wide he smiled at him. "Does this have to do with the dance?"

"Sort of."

"It's either a 'yes' or a 'no', Sam."

"Yes, sir."

"Very funny."

Rocky chuckled to himself. "I thought so."

"Did Emily ask you?"

Rocky nodded. Then rolled his eyes when he saw the wide smile come to his father's face once more. "You know, this is the reason why I don't like to tell you and mom about her," he pointed out. "You always make things with me and Em out to be more than it is."

"Okay, okay." Sam held his hands up defensively. As if Rocky had threatened him with a karate chop to the throat. "I'm sorry. But…for a long time it was funny to see you to skirting around things, as if the rest of us couldn't see the way you smiled bashfully at each other."

"Dad."

"Okay, she asked you to homecoming and you said?"

"I said 'yes'."

At that, Sam blinked once. His eyes narrowed a fraction and he slightly turned his head away from his son. "And? You've gone to dances with her before."

"Yeah, but we'd be hanging out with Jason, this is more like a date," Rocky admitted. He stretched out in his seat, crossing his legs at the ankle. "And, I don't know if I want that."

"How do you know if you don't try?"

Rocky sighed, finally admitting what he hadn't been able to say before. "I mean…I'm afraid of what would happen if the relationship doesn't work out. I don't want to lose my best friend." He ran a hand through his hair. "And…I don't want to know what would happen if she thinks something's there and I don't feel anything at all."

Sam hummed quietly to himself. He studied his son for a long moment then said, "Again, how do you know if you don't try? I'm not saying there's risk to it, with all relationships, whether they work out or now, there's risk. I took that risk when dating my high school girlfriend and did it again when dating the woman before I met your mother. And I especially risked it when I met your mother."

Rocky nodded. He knew all about how his grandparents hadn't been too happy with his dad as a choice of a boyfriend, of a husband when they first announced it. For their own reasons. Knew that his grandmother had come around first, had persuaded his grandfather to eventually come around. Knew that, without his grandmother being there, the tension between his grandfather and father had come back and never completely went away no matter how much time had passed.

"You just have to decide whether or not you feel the risk is worth it." Sam cleared his throat. "Now, as for the dance, I'm assuming I'm going to need to get you guys fitted for some new suits. Especially now that Tum's hit that growth spurt since last year." Sam then made a show of shaking his head. "Now, I think this is more of a conversation for your mother," Sam replied after a moment.

Rocky smiled wryly. "Why? Because she's a girl?"

At that, Sam grinned. "No, because I want to see the look on your face when she insists, she teaches you how to dance. Because, unfortunately, you boys inherited my talent for it." At that, Rocky's smile dropped, and his eyes widened in horror. Sam laughed and patted his knees before standing. "Yeah, like _that_." He was still laughing when he swept out of the room.

Rocky did notice, however, that his father was a little overdressed to go out to do his shift of neighborhood watch. It was a little late, as well.

He'd lied to his father multiple times that night.

But had his father lied to him?


	34. Variances

**Chapter 34**

* * *

"You think you can drop me off at my place before you meet up with Em?" Jason asked the moment Rocky walked into the kitchen a few days later. He ignored the disapproving look Rocky sent him, noticing him sitting on the counter, arm plunged into an open cereal box up to his elbow. "I just have to check on the house for a bit."

Rocky paused in his stride, exchanging a look with Colt, who was sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over his how bowl of cereal. Rocky was mildly surprised to see Colt there. Usually, on the weekend, Colt tried to sleep in for most of the day. _Tried. _It usually had their mom and dad attempting to get him up a few times before he did. But Colt, while not bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, was at least awake enough that he didn't grunt when Rocky greeted him.

"You sure you want to go?" Rocky asked, turning his attention back to his best friend, who may as well have been his brother. He took the box from Jason's hand and flipped the top closed, "Might not be safe."

"Oh yeah, all those paintings are going to come to life and attack him," Colt said sarcastically. He finished his breakfast pushing his bowl away from him. Reached up, rubbed the back of his neck. "Have you seen Tum?"

"Mom took him on her errands," Rocky replied, making Colt nod. One part of their plan was going well. They just had to wait for the other part to be put in motion. Rocky ran his hands through his hair and addressed Jason, "I can take you, when did you want to go?"

Jason shrugged. "When were you going to meet Emily?"

''I was just about to leave." Rock ignored the smirk that immediately came to Colt's face, seeing it out the corner of his eye. Jason regarded him for a second then abruptly turned his gaze to Colt and asked, "Hey, Jeff, you think you could look at my car?"

Colt's smirk faded and he immediately looked to Jason with his complete attention. Serious attention. If there was one thing Colt took seriously, apart from ninja, it was his job. And what a match made in heaven it was, Colt liked to drive fast, and any job that helped him figure out the ways to push his car to the limit certainly did that. It helped that Duke paid him fairer than other jobs and was one of the few people that would allow his protege to tell off custoemrs when the time came. "Did it break down again?"

"What do you think?" Rock answered for Jason, who shrugged once more.

Jason rubbed his hands on the legs of his jeans and said, "I still haven't had it looked at after those guys tried to run me off the road." He lifted his finger. "As far as I know, they're just waiting for me to move it again so they can send a harpoon through the back window."

Colt shook his head. "None of the people we've gone up against have been _that _creative."

"Why don't you just pay to get it fixed?" Rocky asked, despite already knowing the answer to the question. How many times had they had that same conversation? "You just made, like, ten thousand dollars on your last stream."

"Can't," Jason replied, his tone not betraying any annoyance or irritation he could've had at the situation. "Goes straight into my account." He didn't have to add that his parents, who were pretty lax on a lot of things that he did, kept a tight reign on the money he made from his streaming. "And it wasn't ten thousand, i twas more like two."

"So, let me pay."

"No."

"_Why_ won't you let me pay?"

"Because I don't want you to."

Colt's eyes ping-ponged back and for the between the two until Rock let out an exasperated sigh at the calm expression on Jason's face. Finally, Colt asked, "I'm not going to have to sit through another one of your fights am I? It's worse than listening to mom and dad"

"Just one of our usual lover's spats," Jason joked. "We're just like husband and wife."

"Guess which one I am," Rocky said sarcastically, making Colt laugh. "Fine. Just be in my car in five minutes or I'm leaving without you." Jason shot him a salute and sauntered out the kitchen. Rocky then turned to Colt and asked, "Are you ready? Do you know the plan?"

"No, I thought I'd get up early on a weekend and have dad just throw baseballs at me for fun," Colt said sarcastically. Then he shook his head and said, "Yes, I know what I'm doing. But I still think it'd be better if you asked dad about it. You guys talk all the time, he'd be more likely to tell you if he were hiding something from us."

Rocky folded his arms. "Yeah, but all he talks to me about lately is the dance and that's the last thing I want to—"

"—Aren't you meeting up with Em to talk about the dance?"

Rock glared at him in response. "Just let me know what he says."

"I _will_! Relax, Rock. You're even more tightly wound than usual. If there's anyone you should be worried about, it's Tum. You know how easily distracted he gets."

"You mean like you do when we're at the beach and some good-looking girl walks by?" It was Rocky's turn to smirk while Colt smiled. "I've literally seen you get hit in the face with a volleyball enough times that I'm surprised your nose isn't crooked."

"Well, I'd rather be distracted by that than whatever strange things pop into his head that then come flying out of his mouth."

"Don't you remember being 14?"

"Yes, and I wasn't as dumb as he is."

"Whatever. Just let me know what dad says. I'll see you later." He left the house, swiping his hat from the banister of the stairs as he went. Leaving the front of the house, Rocky made sure he locked the door behind him. "See you later, grandpa." He started toward his car, then paused, watching as his grandfather moved slowly in the front yard, twirling a bo staff in his hands. "What are you doing?"

Mori didn't break concentration as he continued to move. "How did your first lesson go?"

Rocky wasn't annoyed by the chance in subject. Wasn't even thrown off by it. "It went well," he replied. "I think they'll progress a lot quicker than we thought they would."

"Do you still think they're connected to Harding?" Rocky wracked his brain, trying to figure out if he or his brothers had ever mentioned to his grandfather what their suspicions were. But Mori continued. "You're not as quiet as you think. Or, maybe I hadn't noticed it until I started living here." He smiled to himself. "It's also easy to determine when you're hiding something that you don't want your parents to know." He turned his bo-staff, pointing it directly toward Rocky's chest then lowered it to his side, using it to prop himself up.

Rocky's hands twitched at his sides, wanting to reach out and steady him, but the look in his grandfather's eyes kept him from doing so, lest he received a verbal lashing in response. "You think they noticed?" He asked, instead.

"I think…" Mori trailed off for a moment, taking in a deep breath. "I think they notice more than you think they do, just as I think you don't notice more about them that you'd like to believe." Rocky's face screwed up. "Teenagers can be very self-centered." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Believe me, I raised your mother."

Rocky smiled.

"Young ninja," Mori continued. "I told you I would be there to help you when the time comes. But I feel, this time, you've encountered something you're not prepared for."

"We can't not do anything grandpa," Rocky replied, shaking his head. "If Jack hurts anyone else with this drug he's making..." he gestured toward his car. "I can't have anything happen to Jason or Em or Jo or…" he shook his head. "There's more than enough that's happened to me and my brothers, we can handle that. _I _can handle that, I'd rather have something happen to me than to them."

"Mm." Mori nodded sagely. "Is that why you find yourself stuck where you are? Pushed down on all sides, with no way for the pressure to go but outwards, in violent directions. Meditation can only do so much, expelling that energy through ninja…can only do so much."

Rocky opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again, looking over his shoulder as a long, honking pierce filled the air. He turned to his grandfather and gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about me, grandpa. If anything, I should be worrying about you."

"Ah." Mori waved his hand. "I still got some fight left in me."

Rocky nodded, big goodbye to his grandfather once more, and went to his truck. He climbed inside, grateful that Jason didn't ask anything about how long he took to speak to his grandfather. He sat quietly while he drove to his house. Consumed by his thoughts, Rocky nearly drove past Jason's house, careening in a sharp turn when Jason gently pointed it out to remind him.

Then he had to slam on his breaks, seeing he was close to rear-ending an expensive car that sat at the end. Jason made a low sound, his eyebrows slamming together when he saw the car himself. "Hm," Jason murmured. "You'd think they'd at least let their kid know when they got home," he remarked before pumping open the door.

"You want me to-?"

"Nah." Jason shook his head. "Chances are, they're not going to be here long before they decide to go to Europe. Besides, I've got to at least see if there's anything I can do for my car before Jeff gets a hold of it. Tell Em I said 'hi', alright?"

"Alright."

Rocky waited at the end of the driveway, watching Jason head inside, waiting to see that he closed the door behind him, before pulling away. It didn't take too long for him to arrive at the pizza parlor, finding Emily the second he walked inside. Along with his boss joking with him as to whether he was taking his day or if he was coming in to work.

"I told you I hate coming here when I'm not working," Rocky said as soon as he sat down.

"Hi," Emily replied, looking over a folder of papers in her hands.

"Hi," Rocky replied with a half-smile.

Finally, Emily looked up and smiled back at him. "That's better. Thanks for coming."

"Did you really think I wouldn't come?"

She shrugged, setting the folder aside, folded her arms and rested them on the table in front of her. "You've been busy with a lot of things lately," she replied and leveled her gaze at him. "Which his part of the reason why I asked if you wanted to hang out today."

"I'm fine," Rocky replied with an easy shrug. How long had he been able to say that? The he 'was fine' despite how many things that are going on around him that just seemed to pile up as the days passed. "We haven't hung out in a while, anyway."

"Yeah, that's the other reason why I asked if you wanted to come." Emily's smile and the light in her eyes faded just slightly. "I know you're under a lot of pressure, a lot of it being things that you're putting on yourself. It's what you do. But this stuff with Harding…" She shook her head. "I don't think I've ever seen you get so worked up before." She reached out her hand, folding it firmly over his own. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm—" Rocky barely kept himself from saying, 'I'm fine' once more. Knew right away it would simply put up another red flag for Emily. _She's just trying to help, _Rocky reminded himself. Which was the problem. He already had some help from his brothers, from, sort of, the Jacksons. He didn't need anyone else to be dragged into it. Least of all, Emily. "You don't need to worry about you."

"I can't help it." She squeezed his hand, bringing it back to her lap. "You're my best friend, why wouldn't I worry about you?" She eyed him carefully. "I'd like to think that we could just hang out, talk about the dance, act like normal, but I know your mind wouldn't all be there. So, I did something for you."

Curious, Rocky's eyebrows twitched upwards. He watched as she picked up the folder on the table and placed it in her crossbody bag, replacing it with an even larger folder. This tone she hefted onto the table and pushed it toward him. "I used some of my sources, got an even more in-depth look at MedoCal."

"Em…" Rocky trailed off, unsure of what to say. Did he want to reprimand her for digging into something she shouldn't worry about…or give her a big hug for finding out more than they'd known before? Right or wrong. Wrong or right. He quickly decided it was a good thing, knowing she wouldn't have taken any other answer. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know, I wanted to." Emily folded her arms once more, this time leaning back in her seat so she could watch him closely. "This affects all of us, not just you. I had to do something to help." Rocky opened his mouth, but himself off when Emily stuck her up finger. "And telling me to stay out of the way isn't me helping."

Rocky shrugged.

"Do you forget that I was captured, too? That Fester had a gun pointed to my hed while he threatened you, Colt, and Tum-Tum because of Snyder? That they threatened my _parents _if I didn't give your mom and dad the ransom note when they got back home?" She cleared her throat. "If I didn't just give it to them and run? I ran back to my house thinking, at any second, I was going to be shot in the back."

"I know that, Em," Rocky said quietly. He drummed his fingertips on the folder he laid protectively on his chest. "And I don't know how many times I can say I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize for it. None of it was your fault."

"Yeah." He knew that. Finally. His therapist had told him that repeatedly that he took on too much of other's people's problems onto his own shoulders. They'd worked long and hard for him to understand he was just as much a victim as everyone else was. That his decision to agree to Colt's suggestion that they take on the robbers by themselves didn't mean he was giving permission to have to take on all of Snyder's grudges he held from the past. Just as it wasn't his fault that Emily, forever a great friend, was trying to help him out when she thought he was asking for it. "But sometimes it feels like it was."

"I've got over it," Emily said easily. She bobbed her head. "Sometimes I have nightmares. Sometimes I have panic attacks,"—he leveled his gaze to her, all the muscles in him stiffening at once—"But it's not anything I left take over my life."

"You think I'm letting this take over my life?"

"No, I think you're being you. And that's why I worry." Emily quickly shook her head. "But I know I can't change you. I wouldn't want to, I like you just the way you are. And that's why I decided to dig a little deeper with this. Those pages in your hands…MedoCal is suddenly selling all their stock, all their assets. They're moving all their money. And fast, too."

"Huh," Rocky said quietly. He opened the folder and looked over it. Looked over the facts and figures that were displayed in front of him. She was telling the truth. As if he ever doubted her. Things were being passed around, moved, changed hands.

Almost as if they were trying to disappear overnight.

Just as quickly as Jason's parents had re-appeared.

There was a connection there, somewhere. But Rocky couldn't quite figure it out. At least not as quickly as he'd like. And that was more frustrating than anything. Rocky closed the folder and pressed it to the table top. He'd have Brett look over it as soon as he could. Or at least ask him to see if he could hack into MedoCal's database to see if he could see anything in real time. He made a second mental note to ask the Jacksons if their father said anything about the money exchanging hands (and briefly wondered if it meant they were going to lose their money and have to go back to Australia).

"Why would someone start up a company and then immediately sell it?" Rocky asked out loud.

"You think, maybe, word's starting to go around about the drugs they've been pushing out?" Emily asked.

"No one's blown the whistle about that yet, so far, no one but us has made that connection," Rocky reminded her.

"Have you told your dad?" Rocky shook his head, making her scoff, eyes flying wide in surprise. "Why not?"

"He'd have to be around long enough for us to do that." He couldn't help the note of sarcasm that came to his voice. "But I've got Colt working on that today. Dad's finally taking the weekend off and wants to work on some batting."

"Ooh." Emily winced.

"Exactly. And we don't have proof," Rocky reminded her. "Not unless we can get some of those drugs."

"Don't you have some?" Rocky's head jerked back in offense. "Remember? You took that sample from me? On the first day back at school? Don't you still have it?" He wracked his brain, trying hard to remember if he did in fact still have the sample. "Don't hurt yourself, Rocky. Jase has already cornered the market on stupidity."

Rocky rolled his eyes. "Do you ever lay off each other?"

"No, he just makes it too easy." Emily rested his chin in his palm, letting out a long breath. She nodded toward the folder. "I hope that helps you out. I'd hate for all of this to be for nothing."

"I kind of hope it is all for nothing," Rocky said. "It means we can be normal for once."

"Sorry, Rock." She beamed. "You were never normal."

Rocky smiled in response. "Thanks." Comfortable silence stretched between them. At least, he hoped it was comfortable for her. His mind was pulled in four different directions, easily twisting together, like strands of rope braided tightly together. He should spend some time with Emily and stay normal for once, but then he needed to research the information she'd given him, but not before he told his dad, but not before warning the Jacksons. But then all those other things would affect his day with Emily…

After a few moments, he pushed all his thoughts aside and went to the counter to order a pizza for the two, completely ignoring his mother's nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him that pizza wasn't a good breakfast choice. Then, for the next hour, they joked and laughed over their shares of pizza, talking about _anything _but the information he'd just received. So much so that he found himself getting a little excited about the dance that was coming up.

It wasn't usually his scene, and he tended to stay away from the more outgoing aspects of Spirit Week, never being one who enjoyed to put himself out in the open like that. But it was senior year, as Emily and Jason were to continuously remind him. And what other time would he have to experience everything if he wasn't to take advantage of it then?

"What color dress are you wearing?" Rocky asked after they figured out—and argued—over whether or not they were going to drive themselves or take transportations to dinner and the dance. It was a silly question, really. He didn't even have to think about it. Probably didn't need to question it, he knew her well enough to know the answer before she had to have the conscious thought. "Pink, right?"

"Duh," Emily replied, with a playful roll of her eyes. "Laurie and I have had our dresses picked out at the beginning of the year." She tried to hide the excitement on her face, but Rocky could see right through her. Could see it in her eyes. And don't worry, it goes with green."

"You think I'd wear a green tux to homecoming?"

Emily laughed, noticing his grimace at the idea. "Well, it _is _your favorite color."

"Have you never seen flowers? Pink and green go together."

Emily flushed, lowering her head. "I think so," she agreed. Rocky understood her implication, rather, understood _his _implication, and found himself mimicking her stance. Lowering his chin, lowering his gaze to the tabletop, cheeks flushing, palms sweating, heart suddenly racing. He looked over when Emily's phone rang, skipping across the table along with the vibrations. She picked it up, murmuring slightly as she said, "It's Jason. Why would he call me and not you?"

Rocky asked himself the same question. "I know you pretend not to like each other, but you know you guys are friends, right?" His smile faded when he saw Emily's face ashen, listening to the other end of the line. Saw her grasp tighten around her phone. "What?" Her lower lip started to tremble. "Em, what is it?"

She hung up and scrabbled for her things, scattering them around the table instead of pushing them into her bag. Rocky reached out and grabbed her hands. Her whole body trembled.

"What's wrong?"

"It-it's Jason."

"What about him?"

"W-we have to go! We have to go! Now!"

They were grabbing others' attention by that point. Rocky saw his boss watching him carefully as he continued to create Rocky grabbed her by the shoulders. All but shook her. Her chest heaved, loud gasps for air escaped her lips. He brought his hands up to her cheeks, forcing her head his way. "Em? Hey, Em, look at me." Her eyes shifted to him, still she trembled. "What happened to Jason? What's going on."

It took a few more, tense moments before she composed herself to blurt out, which immediately made Rocky's blood run cold, "Jason's gone!"


	35. Underlying Tensions

**Chapter 35**

* * *

_Whiff!_

_Poof!_

"Alright, son! That was a great catch! Great catch! Now, fire it back and we can see what else we can do!"

Usually, Colt would've rolled his eyes at the enthusiasm his father showed for his fielding—sometimes it was just too goddamn early for that—but it was nice to have Sam yelling something encouraging at him instead of yelling out of frustration and annoyance.

Even if he was, sort of, using his father to get some information.

It wasn't like they weren't going to be practicing anyway. Weekday mornings they all worked out together; ran and lifted some weights, then did baseball practice after school with the team. The weekends were for Saturday morning games, and, when those games were going on, more group workouts in their garage-gym, and alternating working on Tum-Tum's catching, Colt's fielding, and Rocky's pitching and their collective batting.

Truth be told, Colt and his brothers really loved baseball. But probably not nearly as much as Sam did, it probably wasn't even possible. Let alone the fact that Sam somehow managed to find everything that could be related back to baseball. But damn did it feel good to know he managed to field one of the more complicated throws that Sam had tested any of their sons with.

The sting of the baseball hitting the palm of his glove was at enough of a sign that his father wasn't holding back, either. Just like their grandfather didn't hold back when they were sparring. There was no point, Mori had mentioned, to hold back if you wanted to know your true ability to be a ninja.

"Holding yourself back, keeping yourself from giving your vulnerabilities to the Earth, mind, body, and soul, is not what makes a true ninja."

Colt didn't get it at the time, he was too young. But as he grew older, he understood it more. Understood that holding yourself back from truly feeling was more dangerous than going to far and giving too much of yourself. Too much pressure kept in would boil over.

It was a similar tactic that Sam had instilled in them for baseball; come out hard and fast, so that whomever they were going against couldn't come back from it. Couldn't come back from the shock of underestimating them.

It was funny how similar his father and his grandfather were without realizing it. They were almost consistently at odds with each other, but were simply two sides of one coin, almost refusing to acknowledge the other.

Colt steeled his arm and threw a piston of a throw to his father. Focusing on the image he constructed in his head, of a player on the baseline, sprinting as if their life depended on it to home plate and Colt was the only one who would keep them from scoring the game winning run. The complete opposite of when he scored the game winning run in that championship game years ago.

They'd won many games since then but…this was more important.

"Whoa!" Sam's arm jerked back, he stepped back all the same, when he caught Colt's throw in his own glove. He winced, bringing out his hand, shaking off the sting when it reached the air. "You've really been working on this."

"Mom always said I need to keep myself out of trouble," Colt replied. He folded his arms and shrugged. "I just didn't realize that school, baseball, ninja, _and _soccer wasn't going to do it."

"Is that why you're always arguing with Michael?"

"Nah." 'Colt waved his hand. "I throw that in for fun."

"You always did have the most energy out of any baby I knew," Sam replied. He chuckled, still shaking out his hand. "Your grandfather certainly got one thing right, naming you Colt."

Colt beamed. There were more than enough times he'd heard his father and grandfather argue about the boys' names and ninja, but at least he managed to become something they, _sort of, _compromised on. "Mom always said we're so close because she had to _keep _me close."

Sam chuckled. He finally stopped shaking his hand and simply tossed the ball to Colt. An easy throw. As if they were playing a simple game of catch like the father with his four kids on the other side of the baseball park. Colt had noticed them when they first arrived, the oldest couldn't have been any older than five, but they had a blast shrieking and squealing as they tried to catch the ball and chased after it, when it rolled and bounced across the ground.

He remembered when it used to be that fun.

"That's because you were the poster child for kids who needed to be put on leashes," Sam replied. "Either that or you should've been a magician. One minute you were there, the next you were gone." Sam tossed the ball up and down, catching it in his hand, without taking his eyes off his son. Colt always hated how he was able to make it look so easy. "I'm sure it translated well to ninja."

_At least it makes him drop his guard, _Colt thought, easily lobbing the ball back to his dad. "Speaking of ninja," he said slowly. Sam nodded, throwing the ball back to Colt. For a split second, Colt took his eyes from his father's face to track the curving trajectory of the ball, then looked to his father once more. "You and grandpa haven't been fighting as much lately."

"Not much to fight about," Sam replied with a shrug. An evasive one, Colt noticed. "Sometimes people need to grow up, too."

Colt chuckled to himself. Part of him wanted to confront his dad about what was really going on with Mori, but decided not to. It wasn't the right time and Colt wasn't supposed to know yet. "I thought it was because you were so busy with your case on Harding." He watched his father's mouth tighten but continued to watch him, as closely as Sam was watching his son. "You haven't been home a lot."

"Yeah. Well, Jerry and I've been pulling some all-nighters."

"Is Harding really keeping you guys that busy?" Colt kept his face neutral. _Not like we didn't already know that, _he thought. "Don't you have that…_Most Wanted List_ that you need to go off of? Or…something?"

Sam tilted his head back and laughed. "Oh, if only my job were that easy." He caught the ball when Colt tossed it to him once more. Then folded his arms, taking a few steps closer to his middle child. "For starters, there's more than one list. There're two lists; one for Terrorists, one for Fugitives." He stuck up his thumb and index finger to count. Colt nodded. "Snyder was a terrorist, Medusa was a Fugitive. Harding is neither of those things."

Colt frowned. That certainly wasn't the answer he was waiting for. _What did you think he was going to do? Give you the go ahead to go after this guy _"So…" His eyes shifted, trying to figure out how to respond. "Where does Harding fall in all of this?"

"We're watching him closely." Colt frowned deeply. He could feel his face start to hurt from how quickly and intensely he did so. Sam lifted his gaze toward the sky for a moment, thinking. "Well, there's a lot he can do; more pollution, tax fraud, racketeering, water pollution…"

"Dad," Colt prompted.

"Look, he did his time and released from prison. He started up a new company and we're watching closely so that, _if _he does something again and that's a big _if, _Jeffrey." Sam pointed at him with his glove. "We can nab him. Now, I want you to stop getting mixed up in something you have no business in getting mixed up in, alright?"

Colt lifted his eyebrows.

"I know this is affecting Jo, and that you care deeply for her. She's a good friend and I'm glad you finally got over that girls are cootie stage."

"Don't you mean _has _cooties?"

"No, I mean _are _cooties." The tiniest hint of a smile came to Sam's lips. But his eyes were still stern. It was creeping Colt out. "But I'm serious. I know you guys have this whole 'save the world' mentality that, on a normal basis, I would be nothing but proud of. But this guy, not only was he in prison, but he has originally evaded it for so long because of the people he knew that were tied up in the police force. As much as I trust my guys, I can't get over the fact that a guy like Harding even _had _those connections. He may still have them; I've seen businessmen like this. They're ruthless and won't let anyone, let alone money, get in the way. They can do some really powerful things."

"You need to be careful. And actually think things through before you jump into them."

Colt took in a deep breath through his nose. "I hear you, dad," he said slowly. Quietly. "But…this is my friend. Jo's my friend. Jason's my friend. My friends are being hurt. I can't sit back and wait for things to happen. I need to know what's going on now."

Sam blinked, tilting his head to the side. And, for once, Colt wasn't annoyed at how much Rocky was their dad's mini-me. It came in handy. Because the way Sam blinked and tilted his head was the exact same way Rocky did…when he was confused.

Quickly, Colt rewound what he'd just said. He mentioned Jo and Jason and…Sam didn't know they knew of Jason's parents' connection with Harding or MedoCal. Which meant, to that extent, Sam _knew _of the connection between them and was keeping it a secret. All at once, Colt looked to his father, seeing the expression of realization that came across his face and gulped.

"Hey, uh, why don't we just keep playing?" Colt plucked the ball from Sam's hand and started to walk a few paces away, his fingers rapidly tapping on the seam of the ball. "Why don't we try that corkscrew?"

"How did you know about Jason?"

Colt immediately froze. He resisted the urge of his shoulders moving to his ears. Instead, he focused on the frustration of the situation and looked at his father defiantly. "How did _you?"_

_"_It's part of my job, Jefferey." Sam's temper flared. "There are things I'm supposed to know and things you're not!"

"Yeah, like how to lie to my friends!" Colt's temper flared in response. "That's bullshit!"

"Watch your language."

"Why? How is this any different? If it were me and my brothers, then—"

"—We've already been through that!" Sam raised his voice so loudly that the family playing nearby stopped and looked over at them. The ball the man threw very narrowly missing the youngest of the bunch. The ball bounced on the ground and harmlessly rolled away. Colt stared. "We've already been through that! Hugo Snyder targeted _you _and your brothers because he knew it would get to me! Just like Harding is doing to Jason and Jo! The only difference this time is that I'm able to do more about it because your lives aren't directly on the line! Do you remember what that ransom note said? Did we ever tell you?"

Colt shook his head.

"It said if I didn't lay off Snyder, if I didn't let him get away, never spoke of him again, let him and his students continue to murder and viciously and violently hurt people all in the name of 'ninja' and his business…" Sam's voice cracked. He looked away from Colt, trying to catch his breath. "Then he would've killed you and your brothers right in front of me."

Colt lowered his chin. He looked down at his feet, then at the baseball, then back up to his father. He squinted his eyes, not just because of the sunlight that managed to make its way beneath the brim of his hat. His therapist had refused to let him or his brothers see the ransom note, thinking it would set them back more than help them.

"It did?" He asked quietly.

"It did! Do you think your mother and I saw that note and thought anything other than doing whatever it was that Snyder wanted to get you back safely? What do you think went shooting through my head when I was leaning over the opening of that goddamn ship and saw the terrorist that I'd been following for who knows how long, pointing a _rifle _at my father-in-law and my children?" Sam stepped forward and grasped his son by the shoulders, making sure he was looking his son in the eye. "I'll be _damned _if I'd let that happen. And if you think I'm going to continue to let you and your brothers throw yourselves into danger like that, then you must think I'm completely heartless. I wish I was able to be at home more, but all the time I spend working is so I can make sure that you're fucking safe and aren't targeted by anyone else! You're not helping me do my job as your father when you decide to go barreling into danger with your Devil-May-Care attitude!"

He wrapped his arms around Colt, hugging him tight to his chest. "There's only so much I can do to the extent of the law to help your friends, but there's not a human alive that would think of me wrong to do whatever I can to protect my family. Even if that means leaving you in the dark."

Numbly, Colt nodded against his father's chest. He reached up and wrapped his arms around his father. He couldn't remember the last time he'd hugged him without feeling weird about it. As a matter of fact, it was probably the closest he'd felt to his father, since…he couldn't quite remember.

That shocked him more than seeing the tears in his father's eyes when he released his son and turned away. Colt waited for Sam to regain his composure before doing the only thing he knew would help, he tossed the ball back to his father. Sam caught it and threw it back.

They continued playing catch, silently watching each other, silently understanding each other, until Sam signaled it was time for them to leave. They went back to the car, Colt noticing that the other family had left at some point and were silent on the drive back home. For once, Colt didn't reach over and turn on the music to blasting levels, only for Sam to turn it back down with a disapproving look.

Instead, he enjoyed the quiet time with his father.

Until the sound of the radio system in his car squawked to life. "Alarm tripped at 227 Brambleton, no response received." Colt started. That was Jason's address. "Sending out two—"

Sam grasped the radio receiver and put it to his mouth. "This is Director Douglas, I'm nearby, I'll check it out myself." Without a word to Colt, he replaced the receiver and stomped on the gas. Colt felt himself getting pushed back in his seat against the added speed. He only spoke when his father pulled up in front of Jason's house. "Dad? What's going on?" He looked out the window, seeing Jerry was already there.

Sam nodded when Jerry waved a hand over head.

Colt strained to see, seeing nothing out of the ordinary but a, maybe, slightly open front door?

"Stay in the car," Sam declared.

Colt's head whipped around. He glared at Sam. "Dad, I just heard your radio, I can't ignore that."

Sam took in a breath through his nose. He glanced at his son then nodded. "Just do everything I say. Don't _touch _anything."

Colt nodded and followed his father out of the car and up toward the house. His muscles tensing as he followed his father. He watched as Sam immediately slipped out of the role of a father and husband, and moved into being an FBI agent, silently communicating with Jerry as they moved to go into the house. He hung back behind his father, watching as Sam and Jerry placed their backs against the sides of the house beside the door, nodded to each other, then stormed inside.

Colt didn't move until he heard his father's cry of "Clear" then followed them into the house. As he always did when entering the Cross home, Colt stopped short and looked around. Stared at how pristine everything was. How everything had a place and was in its place. Almost as if no one lived there.

_That's the point, _Colt realized as he followed his father and family friend. _The Crosses are never here. If Harding knew that and knew that the Crosses were putting money into MedoCal and Jason was possible used as collateral to anyone with a sick mind, then it would be easy take all that money and… _"Make someone disappear," he murmured. "And no one would notice." He looked to his father. "Dad?"

Sam held up a hand, eyes sweeping over the pristine, bright white kitchen that Colt had covered in large punch bowls, cups, spills, bowls of food, and the bodies of teenagers with Jason's parties. But was now eerily absent. As If the house itself knew there was no one there.

"What you got, Sam?" Jerry asked, coming up to his partner's side.

Sam sighed a curse under his breath, leaned to Jerry and murmured something in his ear. Jerry nodded in response, lowering his head, cursing as well. "I thought we…"

"I thought so, too," Sam agreed, as if Colt wasn't there. "Looks like Harding went back on his word." He clenched his hand into a fist. "He's trying to get out; move as quickly as possible, there's nothing for him here now. He's got the fall guy. But to get his money…he's got Jason."

Colt exchanged a look with his father then lowered his chin.

It was like Snyder all over again, but this time it'd been taken a step further.

A determined fire burned through his stomach.

If they were waiting for a sign to take Harding down, then this was the biggest sign they were ever going to get.

Surreptitiously reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, using his thumb to send a text message draft he'd had set up on his phone since they started to uncover things about Harding.

And, as much as it would piss off his dad, he couldn't wait to see Harding's face when they took him down.


	36. Guilt

**Chapter 36**

* * *

Tum-Tum watched with rapt attention as his mother worked on the computer. There wasn't anything spectacular about it, he'd seen her do a lot with the marketing and advertising portions of her PR job, but there was also the other part that kept her working long hours. Having to take some of the more difficultly public scandalous cases that she had to either turn on its head and make it seem like 'not such a big deal' to the public or have the perpetrator acknowledge what they did was wrong and try to make amends for it.

He saw her take a celebrity who wanted nothing more than to be the sort of laze about who didn't take responsibility for his actions or how many people he hurt, and through her work turned him into a well respected and loved celebrity. Sure, Tum-Tum still thought hew as a douchebag, knowing the truth behind it all. (He wasn't as bad as he had been, Tum-Tum remembered meeting him once). And that was just what she did with celebrities. Businesses were her biggest clients.

And, lately, she'd been working with real estate businesses. Nevertheless, he wasn't quite sure if that was the work she was doing or if there was something else holding her attention from the way she'd pushed him into the office and closed and locked the door behind her. Drew down the blinds. Normally it was always open and…always had some sort of candy or snack somewhere. All of which Tum-Tum couldn't see from his position in the chair by the door.

And they were supposed to be spending the day together. "Sorry, Tum, I just have to make a quick stop at the office," she'd said when she suddenly received a call on the way to breakfast. Tum-Tum simply shrugged and said 'okay' in response. There was probably some chance there would be food there.

But now there was no food, and no reason to stay there when there was a perfectly good breakfast buffet waiting for them. Nevertheless, his curiosity couldn't stay dormant for too long. He watched as his mother continued to work on the computer, alternately chewing on the end of the pen she tapped against her lips when she wasn't typing rapidly or glancing at the dual monitors she had set up.

"I don't know if you got the memo, mom, but you're not supposed to eat pens," Tum-Tum pointed out. He sighed when his mother merely shook her head and continued looking at the computer. "What are you looking at, anyway?"

"Nothing, sweetie," Jessica replied in a low mumble. "I just need to finish up some stuff and then we'll be out of here."

Tum-Tum pushed himself out of his chair and walked over to his mom. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"Just work, sweetie. It's only going to take a second."

Well, that was interesting. He couldn't remember the last time his mother was that annoyed with him. Not seriously annoyed. There were the few times, like when she found out that the boys had fought against Snyder's men at her father's house. (She'd gotten over the fear and anger and sadness of the boys being kidnapped and got on them about having put themselves in danger). And there was the time that she'd _really _got on them for running off to Japan without telling her and Sam, and they that they charged on their grandfather's credit card for three first class tickets to get there.

This was different.

She was stiff, annoyed, glued to her computer when she was the one who always managed to prove she was the kind of person who cared more about family than anything else. Would _always _manage to make time for her family even when there were deadlines that needed to be done at work.

Something else was holding her attention.

"Does it have to do with Jack?"

He watched as his mother stiffened even further. Brought her hands up to her face and brushed her hair back behind her shoulders. Then she laced her fingers together and rested her chin atop of them, turning to address her youngest son. "Honey, there's a lot going on with Jack Harding—"

"—That you're working on now—"

"—And there's a lot of it that I can't mention to you. To keep you safe."

Tum-Tum snorted, rolling his eyes. "Mom, I'm not a kid anymore. I don't have to be left in the dark. Especially with this. Jo's my friend, too. And so are Patrick and Noah. I know you and dad don't want us hanging out with them—"

"—Your father and I decided that it was the best for you boys if you kept your distance," Jessica interrupted, briefly closing her eyes. She took in a deep breath then looked back at her youngest. "There's more that we know—"

"—So why don't you tell us what it is?" Tum-Tum asked. "I mean, we hear you arguing about it almost every night."

"We don't argue about…" Jessica shook her head. She brought up her hands and massaged her temples. "Tum, now's not the time to talk about this."

"You're not getting a divorce, are you?"

"What?!" Her eyes flew wide open. "No! No…honey…" Standing, Jessica moved around her desk to her son's side. He looked away from her. "What makes you think we would get a divorce?" He lifted his eyebrows meaningfully. "Just because we fight doesn't mean that we're going to get a divorce."

"But you fight all the time. We hear it, mom, we just don't want to say anything."

"Honey." Jessica placed her hands on Tum-Tum's shoulders. "There's some things that we're going to fight about. It doesn't mean that we don't love each other. And your father has a very stressful job"—Tum snorted—"Okay, I know that's usually what makes us argue, but it's not something that's going to tear us apart. We need to be able to talk about the things that bother us, if we leave it all inside, then things will be worse. Your father and I love each other very much. Things are just stressful right now."

"Because of Jack?" Tum-Tum pulled himself from his mother's grasp, keeping his back to her. Jessica paused one more, giving Tum-Tum the chance to drop his façade and leap into his mother's chair. "I thought so. What are you doing?" For a moment, Jessica looked at her youngest son with wide eyes and a dropped mouth. "I've got Rocky and Colt as brothers, if you think I haven't learned how to manipulate people, then you're missing out."

"Honey, that stuff is classified."

"Not to me, not if it has to do with Jack," Tum-Tum insisted. "And I know enough to know it's not classified if your information is in the public domain. As in, the news. I pay attention sometimes." He looked at the computer screen. "And it's not like you're building a bomb." His nose wrinkled. "What are you looking at this house for?"

Folding her arms, Jessica sighed heavily. "We think Harding may have bought this house and was using it as a place to keep himself out of the public eye."

"Why?"

"Because it was bought under the name of a corporation, not by a person. And as far back as we try to get in contact with someone, there haven't been any consistencies with what's been told."

Tum-Tum's eyes shifted. "How do you buy a house without looking at it?"

"Some people do buy them, sight unseen."

"Oh."

"We think he's going to try and turn it around and sell it to make his money and get out of town before he can be arrested."

Tum-Tum waited for her to continue. For her to tell him about the drugs. But she stayed silent. Because she didn't know about the drugs. Or, if she did, she wasn't supposed to let _him _know she knew about it. It would be something that would get his dad in trouble with the information that only the police were supposed to know.

And there was that pesky thing of potentially being in danger…

"Honey, we're telling you for your own good to make sure that you all stay out of trouble you're not ready for," Jessica said, her voice suddenly turning stern. She grabbed the arm of Tum-Tum's chair and swung him around so he was facing her. "Things are more serious with this than you know."

Tum-Tum started to retort, saying it was more serious than _she _knew, but pressed his lips together. _Dad knows more about it than we do, _he reminded himself. _He's got the resources for it. _We only know what we've found out.

"Tum-Tum, I know you and your brothers. You have to let the police handle this."

Tum-Tum tried to play dumb. "We're not doing anything—"

"Michael!"

Tum-Tum gulped. He couldn't remember the last time anyone in his life used his real name. Sure, there were doctors and teachers who used it the first time they met him. And Jason never used his or his brothers' ninja names. His father almost exclusively used it, but his mom…she _always _used their ninja names.

Until they were in trouble for something.

"Uh…" Tum-Tum opened his mouth, trying to figure out how he'd messed up within the last five seconds.

But he was given a chance of reprieve when his mother's phone rang. Not the office phone, but her cell phone. And with the phone that she had a specific ringtone for everyone in the family. Tum-Tum recognized the ring for his dad and watched his mom immediately snatch it up. She turned, presenting her back to Tum-Tum while she answered the phone. Taking a chance, Tum-Tum turned his attention back to the computer, studying the house up on screen, trying to see if he recognized it.

There was something vaguely familiar about it. Whomever bought it certainly had a lot of money, it was part of one of the richer neighborhoods of LA, where they could've moved to but Jessica refused; not enjoying being so far under surveillance. But, as far as he knew, he'd never been there before.

He quickly emailed the picture and listing to himself, erasing all evidence off it from his mom's inbox and outbox.

"Tum-Tum!"

"I didn't do it!"

Jumping, Tum-Tum turned back to his mother, head jerking back at the intense way she was looking at him. "We need to go home, now."

Tum-Tum swallowed hard.

He'd suddenly lost his appetite.

* * *

Rocky wasn't sure how to act. His best friend was 'missing' and while he knew how serious it was…it didn't seem like the police were taking it seriously. There wasn't any truth in the claim that you had to wait twenty-four hours before reporting someone was missing. You could always do it whenever you felt someone truly was missing—usually after you exhausted all the places they would usually be known.

So Rocky spent most of the day, driving around to Jason's usual hangouts to see if he could find him. He wasn't as the pizza shop, wasn't at the baseball field—not that he would've been playing anyway, he hadn't touched a ball other than helping Rocky practice sine he quiet the Dragons baseball team—wasn't at the auto shop paying the bare minimum to get his car fixed, wasn't at Mega Mountain, wasn't streaming on his channels, hadn't posted to his social media, wasn't at the gym…

And he was unable to get any information from his dad about anything. Since the news broke, he simply dropped Colt off back at home, went back into work, and hasn't been responding to any calls or texts all day. So Rocky went straight into action; while they waited for their mom and Tum-Tum to return, Rocky was going to look for Jason while Colt was to contact Brett and see if there was anything he could do to find Jason through his phone.

The search was a wash and that now kept Rocky sitting on the floor of his room, knees up to his chest, arms wrapped around and gently rocking and back and forth as he tried to keep down the panic that was slowly starting to rise. His brain moved a mile a minute, shifting through the most warring thoughts that could come.

_This is all your fault. How; you didn't know what was going to happen? You never should've joined that ninja tournament. You didn't join it, grandpa signed us u. How did he find out about the tournament? Harding must've targeted him in some way. Jason's gone and that's your fault. How is it my fault? He wouldn't have been stuck in all this if he didn't meet me. Jason's the only one who's keeping me normal. Jo, Emily, and Brett are stuck in this, too. All of this is all our fault._

Rocky continued to rock and force, squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as they could go, willing himself to stop breathing so erratically. To make the tingling in his fingers and toes to stop. To make the ringing in his ears stop. To make _everything_ stop.

He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Focused on his every breath. Focused on the feeling of his toes wiggling in his shoes. Focused on the way they scuffed against the inside of his shoes. Focused on wiggling his fingers, feeling them tap against his arms as he continued to rock, continued to breathe, continued to focus n that train plane of consciousness he tapped into when he was working to meditate.

He slowly felt himself starting to calm down. Felt the feeling coming back to his fingers and toes. Felt the pain in his chest slowly start to subside. Felt the fogginess in his head dissipating to a light mist. Started to feel nor mal again, despite the short, staccato breaths he continued to bring in.

So much so he barely looked up to bark a 'get out' to Colt when Colt barged into his room. "I just got off the phone with Brett," he said. "There was no way to trace Jason's phone. It wasn't pinging off any cell towers, it hasn't been turned on in a while."

"Can't you still track the GPS?" Rocky ran a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut tighter, working to hold onto the but of calm that seemed to be dancing out of his grasp.

"He's working on it now," Colt replied. "He may be a genius with tech, but he's still a kid. We don't have the same sort of programs dad or the police would have." Then he noticed the way his brother was sitting on the floor and stopped short. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Rocky gasped. "Just trying to catch my breath." He pulled himself from the floor and, hand still placed against his chest, he sat at his desk and stared at his closed laptop, trying to make sense of anything. "I don't get it," he murmured.

"Don't get what?" Colt moved to sit on Rocky's bed. No matter how many times he'd been warned by his older brother not to sit down and not touch anything he did it anyway. Rocky wasn't in the mood to tell him off, let alone think about anything but what was happening to his best friend in that moment.

Most importantly, he couldn't get past the guilt. Jason had been right. Guilt was what pushed him forward. Guilt for letting people down. Guilt for not acting. Guilt for acting too late. He allowed it to be a driving force to push himself forward to keep helping people. Rocky hadn't always been like that. He could easily pinpoint the few points in his life that would've attributed to it. People always said to be your own person, but what did it mean when you weren't allowed to become your own person? That you still had to have influences come at you from all sides that you had to navigate your way through, and, most times, never really managed to overcome.

How many adults still made decisions with the thought, in the very back of their minds, that they needed their parents' approval? That they may have been disappointing them while they lived to become their own person.

"_Any _of this!" Rocky cried. He shook his head. Stared at the bright green packets of 'vitamins' that set on the desk in front of him. The one he'd gotten from Emily and the torn packaging that Colt had taken from work. "I don't get it. Everything is sitting in front of us. Lined up perfectly. Harding was in prison for poisoning and improper waste management. While in prison he continued his business practices; he created a new company. Made some sort of low rent vitamin or at the very least a street drug that he pushed out through his connections. He continued to make money through those connections dealing the drugs. He invested in a new company to use as a cover to mass produce it, talked Jason's parents into investing as well, collected as much money as he could. Got the chemist to be his fall guy, and then split." He shook his head. "It can't be that easy. Something else is there."

"Or maybe it _is _that easy," Colt suggested gently. He shrugged. "Greed can be a great motivator. Grandpa tells us that all the time."

"I know, but…" Rocky shook his head. There was one part of the whole thing that was still bothering him. The identity of Reed's boss. If it wasn't Harding, then who was it? He pressed his lips together, trying hard to determine…something.

"It doesn't matter, Rock. We can't wait much longer. We have to do something now."

They had that thought in common, Rocky realized. That they couldn't wait much longer. They could go to their dad, but there was only so much he could tell them. And, as Jason had pointed out, Rocky wouldn't be able to ignore the guilt that'd hit him if he sat back and waited for other people to start making moves. Especially if it meant his best friend was in trouble and they were, probably, the only ones who knew enough to save him and stop whatever plan Harding was cooking up.

"Wait until Tum gets back," he said. "We can fill him in and then plan to go. I'll let Jo know what's going on, too." Rocky paused, looking at his phone in hand. "Emily!" His eyes squeezed shut. "I forgot to call her back, that was hours ago."

"I can call Jo," Colt offered with a light laugh. "It looks like you've already got a lot on your hands right now." His implication of Emily and needing to appease her wasn't lost on Rocky. But in that moment, he wasn't annoyed by it. She was as worried about Jason as he was, having had gone out and searched for him as much as Rocky did. "Seriously, Rock, we're going to find Jason and kick Harding's ass. He smirked, folding his arms. "We've done it before, we'll do it again."

It was the first time Rocky smiled all day.

* * *

Once Tum-Tum and Jessica returned home, Jessica went into her and Sam's room, closing the door behind her and was quiet for most of the evening. Tum-Tum went straight to Rocky's room, where his older brothers pulled him inside and told him the plan. And he told them everything he found out while being at their mom's office. And it just made things clearer, that they were going to have to move faster than they were already moving.

So they messaged Jo and the Jacksons, saying they needed to meet up, waited until midnight where it was clear their father wasn't going to be coming home that night, snuck out and went back to the nearby playground they'd the first met up with the Jacksons and waited.

"You sure they're going to show?" Colt asked, gently pushing himself back and forth on a swing. He looked over at the sound of a branch snapping in the woods nearby. Looked at his watch, then kept swinging. Rocky shrugged in response. Tum-Tum sat on another swing nearby, staring at the ceiling as he dizzyingly spun himself in a circle, tightening up the chains, to spin back in the opposite direction. Colt reached out and grabbed the chain of Tum-Tum's swing, jerking him to a stop fast enough that he nearly fell to the ground. With a dying laugh, Colt added, "We can handle this ourselves; you know? Us and Jo, we can do it."

"Jo can handle a lot of things," Rocky agreed with a fond smile. He remembered her quiet thunder, with the way she insisted she was going to help the boys find her father, after Harding had his men kidnap Charlie and hold him for ransom. And she proved to be a good help as well. "But something like this…we'll need as many people to help us as possible. And we won't be able to get through MedoCal without the Jacksons helping us." He took in a deep breath, watching the empty path that led from the parking lot to the playground set. "Besides, if what dad was saying is true about Reed, they're going to want to get back in there themselves."

Colt gave him a funny look. He folded his arms. "Weren't you the one who was suspicious of them from the beginning?"

Rocky sucked in a breath between his teeth. "Yeah," he admitted. "But now I'm not too sure why I was." He turned back to his brother and shrugged. "I was wrong."

"_You _were wrong?" Colt teased. "The Great Rocky Douglas was wrong? Really? This is a day for the record books."

"It's bound to happen." Rocky shrugged once more, this time a more bashful shrug. "Not as much as _you're _wrong about things but…" He laughed when Colt shoved him hard on the shoulder, nearly knocking him off his swing. He reached out and shoved Colt back.

"Hey, I think they're coming," Tum-Tum said from the ground. He stood up and pointed, brushing off the seat of his pants. Rocky followed his point and saw a group of darkened shadows quickly moving their way, speed walking and taking a few pauses to look over their shoulders as they approached.

Rocky and Colt stood with them, waiting as the group approached. Finally, they came to a stop around the boys and Jo spoke first, nodding to Cloud. "He's coming with us," she said firmly. "Whatever it is we're going to do; he's going to help us out. You can trust him."

Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum nodded in agreement. The Tawankan tribe had been like family to them since they'd become 'honorary members', anyone who wanted to help, they could trust to help. And vice versa.

A light snort filled the air, and Rocky's gaze immediately turned to the Jacksons. Noticing the slight sense of unease of the way they stood with each other, looking to Jo, to the boys then away again. "You really think this is a good idea?" Noah asked quietly, his voice almost carried away by the wind. Rocky strained to hear him. "To trust them after what happened to our dad?"

Rocky steeled himself, preparing how he was going to ask the question with tact. Tum-Tum, for once, was quiet for the same reason. Colt, on the other hand, couldn't contain his curiosity. "What happened?" He asked with a shrug.

"He's gone," Noah said simply.

"Gone?"

"Are you deaf?" Riley asked sarcastically, then shot him a humorless smirk. "Or does it not matter once it doesn't bloody affect you?"

Rocky saw Colt's shoulders rise just slightly, saw his jaw clench. Knew he was getting angry. Which was ironic, Rocky noted, considering how much Riley reminded him of his brother. There was truth in the saying what you didn't like in other people could sometimes reflecting yourself. For a moment, Rocky wondered if Colt liked her, it took him a bit longer to come up with the classic, "What's that supposed to mean?" in response when he was usually so quick witted.

"That this is your fault!" Patrick added. "It was bad enough you thought our dad was poisoning people. But now, because of you lot, our dad's been…arrested…or kidnapped…or committed fraud." Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum looked at Patrick as if he were crazy. Sydney rolled his eyes while his brother and sisters all shook their heads. "Or wherever the hell he's gone!"

"He went to work and hasn't come back," Rhuben explained patiently, though her tone of voice held an extra measure of coolness to it.

"He might be working late," Tum-Tum offered before Rocky could open his mouth and speak.

"And not call?" Noah shook his head. "If you didn't know our dad, it wouldn't mean much. Our mum and dad don't ever go a day without kissing goodbye and without calling each other. It's out of the ordinary for him." He shook his head.

"We never should've trusted you," Riley murmured.

"Then why did you?" Rocky asked, finally finding his chance to speak.

"Because I like you, Sam," Riley said sarcastically. She turned to go. "We can handle this ourselves."

Rocky looked to Jo and Cloud, who simply watched the two families lightly bicker with each other. Jo looked back at him and nodded encouragingly. Suddenly, Rocky felt as if something had enveloped him, something that would strengthen him. He hadn't felt it since the time they'd been name honorary warriors.

If there was ever a time to have that sort of blessing put on them again, it was then.

"Look," Rocky said, barely on the edge of losing his patience completely. "I'm sorry about what's happened to your dad. But it's not just him, now. Jason's gone, too." The Jacksons stopped and turned back, watching him curiously.

"Jason?" Patrick's eyebrows slowly unpinched. He lowered his hand from Riley's shoulder, as if he'd been holding her back. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jackets, shoulders rounding forward. "What do you mean? What happened to him?"

"He's gone," Rocky said simply. "We think Harding's kidnapped him." He looked over the Jacksons' five faces, taking in his words. "He was a pawn in all of this, too. I know we suspected you guys before. But if you've ever been in our shoes, if you've seen everything we've seen before, you'd understand why. And, for that, I'm sorry. You were right, you have nothing to do with this and now Harding is using your dad to take the fall for this. And, in many ways, it is our fault. I don't blame you for not trusting us like we didn't trust you. But if we're going to have any chance of clearing your dad's name and getting Jason back, then we have to work together.

"You reckon we're really ready to take on these blokes after one day of 'expect the unexpected'?" Rhuben asked. She eyed him curiously, like a lens of a camera focusing on him. Seeing things clearer. "If Harding is as bad as you say, he'll probably be ready for you lot this time. Have more, trained people on his payroll, yeah?"

"I think it'd be safer to eat dad's 'everything but the kitchen sink' recipe," Patrick lightly joked, using air quotes around the words. "And _believe me_, no one wants that."

"I don't know," Tum-Tum tilted his head to the side curiously. "What's in it?"

Rocky and Colt glared at him. Rocky took in a deep breath then said the part he knew would be the make or break part of the plan. "We need to break into MedoCal."

Sydney's eyes widened in surprise. "You want us to do what?"

"'I know you can do it." Rocky paused before revealing the next part. The most crucial part. He internally flinched away from the reaction he was possibly going to receive. "I saw your file."

Out the corner of his eye, he saw Colt, Tum-Tum, Jo, and Cloud looking at him funny. But he kept his eyes on the Jacksons, who all stiffened as the reality of his words hit them.

Riley blinked once. "I'm sorry?"

"At school, in the guidance counselor's office," he continued. "I saw your file." He cringed, then quickly amended his words, speaking the whole truth. "I don't know whose it was, specifically but…I saw the file."

"Oh." Rhuben said, as if it made a lot of sense. She nodded, brushed her hair back from her face with both hands. She snapped her fingers, bobbing her finger gun after. "And that's why you didn't trust us in the first place."

"No." He looked at her meaningfully. Made himself look her in the eye. "I didn't see it until after." He licked his lips. "I didn't think much of it at the time. It's none of my business. I saw it on accident."

Noah kicked at the ground, scuffing the tip of his shoe over the mulch that covered the playground, drawing a short, dark line in the ground. "So you believe those rumors, then?"

"I don't believe in rumors, what I believe is that you're our best bet in finding your dad, finding Jason, and stopping Harding once and for all."

"They've only had one lesson on ninja," Colt reminded Rocky. "Do you think that's enough?"

"After what I saw in the ice cream shop and how quickly we saw them take on some parts of ninja?" Rocky shrugged. "Yeah, I think it's enough. They know enough to do this."

Colt shook his head. Rhuben noticed and said, "You have people doing CrossFit, MMA, and pilates on a daily basis and you think it's weird that we may already know how to defend ourselves?" He looked at her then shrugged, which, Rocky knew, in Colt-speak meant he was conceding her point. It wasn't weird. But Rocky also knew, in another form of Colt-speak, that he was just worried about what would happen to them if things went south. But couldn't say it out loud.

"So we're all in agreement?" Jo asked, finally speaking up again. "We're all going to work together? And stop Harding."

"Yeah, we're just going to be breaking into MedoCal, find Jason, clear our dad's name, and take Harding down," Patrick said flippantly. Then she smiled a lopsided smile. "It's what every teenager does on a regular basis.

"Then we'll follow your lead, Rocky," Riley finalized. "If you're up for it."

Rocky found himself smiling back. "I think I'm up for it."


	37. Reflecting

**Chapter 37**

* * *

Jo checked the arrows in her quiver. Waved it back and forth in front of her, watching the arrows slide around. When she was sure it wasn't going to fall out, she looked back to Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum, and smiled gently. "I haven't seen that in a long time," she remarked.

Rocky smiled, tightening the black belt around his ninja gi. There weren't too many times over the years that they'd needed to wear their gi in public. Anytime they'd tried to stop someone who was committing a petty crime, something that didn't need immediate input from police that they'd managed to come across, it was always done in their street clothes. When they faced off against Snyder, they were in their ninja clothes because of it being shortly after they got their ninja names and having it handy. When facing against Koga they were in their gi because it was presented to them, so they'd be in the correct clothes while they talked to the Grand Master about presenting the dagger to the winner of the tournament.

When they faced against Harding and Medusa, something that was more publicized, they were in their street clothes. With Harding, the first time, they had a quick turnaround time of meeting Jo, finding out what was going on, and working to stop Harding from killing anyone else as soon as possible. With Medusa, they'd randomly fallen into the trap she set, not knowing she'd be taking over Mega Mountain the same day they had been there for Tum-Tum's birthday.

But, for the first time in years, Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum put on their gis to ensure their identities were hidden in case security was still around to try and take advantage of them later. _It doesn't make much of a different, _Rocky reminded himself. _Harding already knows we're onto him, he'd be able to track us down later. It's like a security blanket_…Nevertheless, he felt stronger when he was dressed in his gi, feeling the strap of his ninja mask pressing into his neck as it rested above his head, ready to be moved over his face when his time was right.

He looked to his side and saw Colt and Tum-Tum dressed the same, in their matching gis with their ninja masks lifted, ready to go into MedoCal. They looked back at him, nodding quietly as they waited to go into the positions that they'd talked about ad nauseum. Rocky looked over Jo and Cloud, smiling to himself when he saw the tribal paint that was strategically and carefully placed on their faces, dressed in their traditional tribal gear.

Then he looked to the Jacksons, watching as they got prepared as well. All dressed completely in black to blend in with the darkness of the night. Standing in the darkened parking lot of the pizza shop, Rocky looked out toward the road. There was no chance of anyone coming to stop them, no chance of anyone even coming to the pizza shop it was so late. But he couldn't help the trill of anxiety that shot through him.

So much could go right, but so much could go wrong at the same time. There was a lot riding on it. A lot of people being affected by the outcome; the entire Tawankan tribe, his family, the Jacksons's family, the citizens of LA, employees of MedoCal who didn't know what was going on…

It was more pressure thatn he'd felt in a while. Not as much since they'd stopped Medusa's terror on Mega Mountain. Thousands of lives at stake if the rides were made to go any faster or if harnesses were opened. Even so, it wasn't what he had to deal with as much as Amanda. She was trying to hack the system before Medusa could regain control of everything and if she didn't get one of them…there were a lot of lives on her hand and she handled it well without any sort of ninja training.

_If she could do that, we can do this, _Rocky thought. He tried not to focus on how his knees were starting to quake, how his hands were trembling. He finished getting dressed, noticing Colt was looking at him peculiarly. Alost as if he were worried.

The last time Rocky had seen his brother genuinely worried was when he told him what was going on with Mori and his health. That was understandable. Otherwise, Colt was steady with the way he handled things. Punch first, ask questions later. It was good to see him put down his own walls and be vulnerable, even if that meant Rocky had the chance to tease him for it later.

"You know what'll happen if we get caught, right?" Colt asked, lowering his voice. He tugged at the sleeves of his gi, folding it over his fingers. Rocky nodded. "We're going directly against everything dad's warned us."

"I know," Rocky replied.

How many times had Sam tried to tell them that, the older they got, the less of a 'game' their ninja training was. They'd never treated it like a game, but they understood his implications. People, in life, could be bad. If there was someone who wanted them dead, they'd want them dead. Nothing was going to stop someone from killing the boys if they wanted. Rocky had simply nodded quietly every time Sam started the conversation again, but it always ran through his mind. At the best of times, at the worst of times.

And Sam was right. They were targeted to be kidnapped by Snyder all because their father was part of the FBI and was trying to take him down. There were other people who may have had the same idea and could've done it better. Snyder had pointed a high-powered rifle directly at them, ready to shoot. He'd learned martial arts and turned it into a murderous version of Mori's teachings. Regular people wanted nothing more than to succeed, what was going to stop them from shooting first and asking questions later?

Colt stopped pulling on his sleeves and looked his older brother in the eye. "It's not like every other thing we've done before. This is going directly against the police. If we get caught, we're actually going to get in trouble for it." And, of course, the potential of being killed, but neither of them were going to say that.

"I know."

Colt brought his hand to his mouth and then pulled it away, miming a kiss. "Kiss your college dreams goodbye."

Rocky nodded again. "I can live with that."

"Can you?"

Rocky folded his arms. "What's that supposed to mean?" Colt shrugged in response. As if to say 'you figure it out'. Rocky sighed and stepped around his brother, reaching up a hand to ensure his ninja mask was still in place. "Is everyone ready?"

"I reckon as ready as we can be," Noah said. Rocky jumped and twisted his head around to see him standing just behind him, looking at Rocky as if he were crazy. "Sorry."

Bringing up a hand, Rocky pressed it to his chest, trying to keep it from pounding any harder while Riley, Rhuben, Patrick, and Sydney all laughed quietly, working to keep their voices from carrying over the empty lot. "We probably should've warned you," Patrick said once he calmed down. "If anyone's going to be a good ninja, it's No. The boofhead sneaks up on us all the time."

"Mostly because _he _can keep his mouth shut," Riley snarked.

"We've all got our responsibilities," Rocky continued. "Do you know what to do?"

"_Yes, _Rocky, you've told us what we're going to do." Colt replied, impatiently. Not impatient of his brother's consistent reassuring, but readiness to leave. "You've drilled us through all the emergency signals and what to do when we've done what needs to be done. Jo and Cloud are ready to take on Harding if we run into him." Colt looked to Jo, who's grasp tightened on her bow. "I've got Brett on standby in case we run into trouble."

"And Emily is as far away from here as possible," Tum-Tum replied, waving his hand. "Blah, blah, blah. We know what we're doing Rocky."

"Okay." Rocky nodded once. "We're going to find Harding, find the Jacksons's dad, get some answers and get out. Once we have what we need, we'll pass it along to the police and that's it."

"So, then, what's with the masks?" Rhuben gestured towards the masks that hung over the boys' heads. "You keep touching them to make sure they're there. I reckon they must be important."

"Our grandfather gave it to us on our day of names," Tum-Tum explained. "The masks represent our names and what the names signify. They're passed down through the family and we're meant to give them to our kids on their day of names." He took his mask off his head and held it firmly against his chest. "It's a way to keep our grandpa close to us."

The Jacksons nodded.

Rocky nodded back once more. "Let's go."

Leading the way, the group left the parking lot of the pizza shop and hurried in the direction of MedoCal. They ducked around the corners of the nearby buildings, being sure to keep to the shadows the closer they got to the building. When they finally arrived, Rocky slowed them to a stop just outside the building, crouching near the bushes. He watched through the branches, looking for any movement.

"According to dad, there's security that patrols the area for the night," Patrick said, placing his hands on his knees as he crouched. He shook his head. "But I don't see any of them around."

"Neither do I," Rocky agreed. He trained his eyes, working to see if there was any movement inside the building, in case security was just standing too far from the windows. But didn't see anything.

"Well, if there's no one there, that just means it'll make our job easier," Colt remarked. He stretched his arms in front of him then . "In and out in one go."

"No," Jo said slowly. "Something doesn't feel right." She pursed her lips, eyes scanning the office windows as the seconds passed. "There has to be someone inside."

"There's too many people who have the opportunity to steal stuff from in there," Cloud agreed. He brushed his long hair behind his shoulders. "Especially someone like Harding…all of that new tech he's got in there, if it's unguarded, someone's going to go after it." He flexed his fingers along the grip of his tomahawk. Read to go.

"Well, we're wasting time standing here," Colt insisted. "Let's go while we have the time. If we can get information while we're in there, why wouldn't we take the opportunity?"

Rocky hesitated for a moment more. Something, _something _was telling him it was a bd idea, but Colt also had a point. They weren't going to get any other open opportunities like that. It was like an open invitation and they were just letting it slip by. So, against his better judgement, Rocky nodded, and the group, minus Rhuben, set off. Just like they'd planned.

He watched them go, pressing his lips together.

"Has anyone ever told you that you need to relax?" Rhuben asked, shifting her position on the ground. She tightly grasped the bag at her side, watching the door they approached carefully. It took a few long, tense moments before the door opened and the group slipped inside.

Rocky held his breath, waiting for some piercing sound to shoot through the air, that'd signal an alarm being set off. But nothing came. He released his breath the moment they were inside. "I'm not going to be able to relax until all of this is done," he said honestly. "There's too much at stake."

"Mhm." Rhuben sat back on her heels. "But what's at stake for you?"

Rocky sighed. Why was everyone pestering him so much lately? First it was Colt, now it was her, and it was everyone throwing pressure on him from all sides. Couldn't they just leave him alone? Just for once? Where he didn't have to have an answer for everything.

"My best friend," Rocky replied as if it were obvious. It was obvious. He was tired of having to remind people of that, or, rather, justify why he was the one who was trying to get revenge this time. "My friends' family; they'd been hurt by Harding before. I can't let him get away with it again."

"Then why are you waiting so long?" Rhuben continued to ask. Rocky's mouth twitched to the side, lowering his head. "You keep waiting to make these plans, but it's your best mate who's missing, yeah? Why didn't you just rush in and take him back?" She reached up, brushing her hair back from her face. "If you thought he was here?"

Rocky shook his head, pressed his lips together even tighter. Not that he found the time of her questions to be ill-timed, but that they were things he'd asked himself. He was always told he was calm, cool, and collected. Knew what to do and how to react in a pinch but…everything had been offkilter for him lately. His home life, his school life, his future…nothing was making sense anymore. Nothing was as easy as it used to be and he was starting to not know how to react, how to decide, how to stay calm.

And it all started when he was told he'd be fighting in a ninja tournament and immediately knew there was a chance he was going to face off against Colt. That's where he'd been stuck with the ultimate choice; win and then have his brother hate him for the rest of his life which would ultimately tear them apart because of the—silent albeit one-sided—competition that seemed to always plague, or lose and have his brother hold it over his head for years to come.

Harmony vs. his pride.

His brother's feelings vs. his own.

_Everything _vs how he truly felt about it because he always had to be the one to know what to do in every situation.

Rocky shook his head, wiped his mental slate clean, and looked to Rhuben, who looked back at him. "What would you do?" He asked. "If it were you? If your friend was in trouble and you had a million things pulling you in a million directions and didn't know which way to go?"

"I'd make a decision and stick with it," Rhuben replied readily. She lowered her gaze. "I'd fight hard for them, no matter my choice. If I made a wrong choice, put myself in the wrong direction, I made it with the right intentions. And that's the thing about friends, even if the trouble they're in is your fault, they forgive you for it because they know it's not you wanting them there. They'd have trust in the fact that you'd do anything you could to make it better." She reached up, once more, to smooth her hair back, twisting it around her finger. "And that, alone, should be enough."

Rocky lowered his gaze. He brought up a hand to rub through his hair, knocking off his hat and ninja mask as he did so. With quick reflexes, he caught it before it hit the ground and turned it over in his hand. He studied the ninja mask, taking in the greens, whites, an yellows, blacks, and reds, rubbing his thumbs over the shiny surface.

Remembered the pride and understanding once receiving it and his ninja name.

"Sounds like you have some experience with it," he said after a second. Then added, "Sorry."

Rhuben smiled gently. Then it faded. "It's no worries," she replied. Then added, "_Now. _Back then...your friends are your friends, even if other people don't get it."

He had a hunch. "Is that why you came here?"

"Partly."

"Aren't you supposed to be keeping lookout?" Rocky placed his hat and ninja mask back on his head.

"I am." Rhuben reached to the side and rifled through the bag on her. She pulled out a camera and pointed it to the side of his face, clicking away. Rocky quickly threw up his hand, a move that he'd become used to over the years of dodging cameras when he wasn't on the other end of them. "You're the one who's not." She nodded pointed with her chin and Rocky followed her gaze.

Around the corner of the block, just out of sight, a van was parked with the doors opened. As a few seconds passed, hidden figures were going back and forth from the van to the building, passing something from it to place in the back. And…most importantly, Rocky recognized JJ standing by the side of the van, watching the men while glancing over his shoulder as if looking for something.

Or, more likely.

Trying not to be found by someone.

The sound of the camera shutter going off a few more times reached Rrocky's ears before it was drowned out by a sudden banging sound. Rocky whipped his head toward the source of the sound and saw commotion in the windows of the office building. He spotted Riley in the window, removing her hand back from where she pounded with her fist; she waved her hands over her head, then mimed making a pitch and touched her ear.

Steal.

"Go, go, go!" Rocky slid his mask over his face, nudged Rhuben on the arm and the twos started sprinting toward MedoCal.


	38. Step One: Get Past The Guards

**Chapter 38**

* * *

"There's about seven floors we have to get through before we get to dad's office," Patrick said as the group raced toward MedoCal, leaving Rocky and Rhuben outside. "But the main office is probably going to be on the top floor. We'll find Harding there, yeah?"

"You really think they're going to be holding Jason there?" Tum-Tum asked. He crouched low by the first set of doors they came across, looking over his shoulder for any security. His jaw worked a mile a minute, teeth chomping on the wad of gum stuck to one side of his mouth.

Colt worked hard not to smack his brother upside the head from the obnoxious slurping sound that came from his brother, but figured it was better than a bag full of jellybeans that would, inevitably, make him choke and draw even more attention to himself thatn they already needed.

On Tum-Tum's other side other side, Noah moved forward and covered a plate with his free hand before tilting his head aside to focus on the buttons on the other. He frowned for a moment, lowered his chin, mouthed something to himself, fingers fluttering as he thought.

"If they're not there then it'll at least give us an idea of _where _they could be," Riley replied. Her eyes searched the side of the building, lips quickly moving as if she were reciting something to herself. "Blokes like these aren't very smart in the way they encrypt their files. They're more likely to protect their money but for everything else…"

"Better have a good IT department," Sydney agreed. He curled his hands around the straps of his backpack, bouncing on his toes as the seconds passed. "I can't imagine a place like this wouldn't."

"Weren't you playing around on your dad's computer that one time we were there?" Colt asked.

That seemed so long ago. Not only was it when his dad burst into the room as if he were a stalker on speed and acted as if they were little boys again, reprimanding them. But it was also when Colt realized that there was, in fact, something that Reed was keeping quiet about his job. Or, of what he knew about it, more than he was letting on, Colt was sure.

He was sure then…not so much now…

_Mom did always say you had a habit of jumping to conclusions, _Colt reminded himself. He looked over when a harsh sound filled the air, Sydney's snort. The young boy made a face and said, "Playing Solitaire, looking at a paper I'm working on is one thing, he's not enough of a boofhead to leave an unlocked computer for his kid to play on." Colt was suddenly reminded of what the Jacksons had said about Sydney, that he was a MENSA level genius—Tum-Tum could hardly string two coherent and intelligent words together at ten than Sydney could. (He was always too much of a kid, blissfully unaware of everything). Sydney thought for a moment then continued. "Not especially when it's, potentially, a government controlled lappie that has more locks and authorization check points on it than a prison."

Colt listened to Sydney's exasperation, but his gaze had shifted his gaze to Riley, noticing the use of the word 'we'. Tum-Tum had asked about Jason...He shook his head, wondering if there was something wrong with him in that made him immediately go for the negative, for the suspicion than what was being told to him, taking things at face value. The intensity of everything he'd been through over the years, probably had worked on him more than he cared to think of.

"What?" Riley's question brought him to blink, noticing her looking back at him, half her face screwed up in an expression he wasn't how to decipher. Either annoyance or amusement. Exhilaration or trepidation. Everything he was feeling in that moment of silence, waiting to get inside.

Either they were about to fix everything or just about to make everything worse…

"Nothing," Colt replied quickly. His mood shifted to annoyance. At being caught or…? "I was just thinking."

"Of everything else you can blame on us?"

Colt turned his gaze toward the sky. Letting out a huff through his nose. He wondered where everything had gone sideways. Wondered what he would've done had the situations been reversed. He wouldn't have been so forgiving with everything, if he were being honest. If someone accused his parents of something, he'd do everything in his power to ensure their names were cleared. Proves they were innocent in everything. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

But what did you do when who you originally thought was your enemy, wasn't an enemy at all? Apologies had never been his strong suit, but he knew when it came for times where they were needed. Whether he believed his words or not. No rest for the weary. And no rest for those that had the livelihoods of multiple people in their hands.

"I don't remember getting an apology from you," Riley continued, as if able to read his thoughts. She gestured with a light toss of her head to where Rocky and Rhuben were waiting. Colt's fingertips fluttered against his thighs, brushing against the loose, light fabric of his ninja gi. Made to be able to move quickly but keep cool through the high stakes experiences they were put through. A ninja had to be prepared, and comfortable, at all times. "I doubt being suspicious was just Rocky's idea." She waved her hands. "God forbid, being a new student makes you automatically assumed to be up to something."

Colt finally snapped back to attention, noticing the light sarcastic edge to her tone. "You try being accused of doing practically everything wrong since you're born," he remarked, matching her sarcasm. "Kind of makes it harder for you to not notice it in other people." He shrugged. "And, you got your apology."

She nodded, changed the subject. "Do you always do what your brother tells you?"

"Only when he's not being annoying about it."

Riley chuckled to herself, her laughter ending with a quick bite of her lower lip. The tension eased out from between them and Colt realized that he'd been forgiven. He hadn't apologized, hadn't outright said the words that were always difficult for him (His mom did always say that he'd have better luck with people if he were ever able to not sound so defeated when he didn't have a choice but to say those words) but knew things had changed between them.

He trusted them, had no choice but to, but truly knew there was nothing to them other than the want to release any suspicion from their father. Maybe in a way that most people wouldn't, but Colt and his brothers weren't known in the media as the '3 Ninjas' for nothing.

Riley nodded toward the door that was open, that Colt hadn't realized the others had already gone inside. She made a gesture with her hands 'after you' and Colt slipped inside with her going in after him. He waited for the door to close to face forward once more, taking in a deep breath of the stillness that was the inside of MedoCal.

Colt expected a blazing alarm to go off nearly immediately. To warn any of the security or late workers around that someone who wasn't supposed to be there had come in. When nothing happened, Colt steeled himself, truly became himself, became _Colt_, ready to do what needed to be done to take down Harding and avenge Jo, the Tawankans, and everyone who'd been harmed and hurt by his actions in the years before and after Harding's presence in Los Angeles.

He tightened his hands into fists, feeling and hearing his knuckles pop. His adrenaline spiked and he followed the Jacksons, creeping further into the building. He remembered the path he and his brothers had taken before, when Rocky had bluffed their way into MedoCal. Where they randomly started to move further and further into the building, closer to finding _anything _they could about Harding, only to be stopped by Reed, who had taken them to his office and answered any questions they had. Until they were stopped.

Colt's blood ran cold at the realization. Remember the phone call. How it seemed to well timed, how their father had known where to find them. _What if the office…what if the whole building is bugged? _The thought had only finished crossing his mind when he noticed Jo and Cloud moving in the direction of the elevators.

"Where are you going?" Colt hissed after them.

Jo looked at him like he was crazy. She turned to him, her fingers tapping on the grip of her quiver, eyes ablaze with fury. "If Harding really is behind all of this, I'm going to make me

"What are you going to do?" Colt asked sarcastically, incredulously. "Burn this place to the ground?"

"If I have to," Jo replied coolly. Colt stared back at her, eyes wide. "He's hurt my family for a long time, Colt. He's been racist toward us, he's made us _sick_, hurt us, _killed _us in ways I could never imagine harming anyone else. If he doesn't want to listen to reason, if he doesn't want to listen to something peaceful, then maybe he'll listen when we have no option but to become violent."

Colt shifted his gaze to Cloud. "You think this is a good idea?" he asked him.

Jo was one of Colt's best friends, but he wasn't close enough to routinely ask about the goings on in the tribe. Sometimes, when he did, Jo would give him a soft smile and say, "Don't worry about it" or "It's not something I can talk about," and he knew it was something sacred for the tribe. He, Rocky, and Tum-Tum were honorary members of the tribe, but fully members. They were welcome, treated like family, but would never know what it felt like to actually feel everything a Tawankan did.

The oppression, the fear, none of it.

Cloud hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting from Colt to Jo. Then his expression mimicked Jo's. "If you don't want to come with us, to get some answers, then don't come with us." He nodded toward the Jacksons. "Help them. But we're going to do this, no matter the consequences." He looked to Jo then back to Colt. "I'm not going to let her go alone. I have to protect her."

Colt knew that Jo didn't need protecting. She was one of the fiercest warriors that the Tawankan tribe had, despite the Tawankans being a peaceful tribe. She was the one to stand up and curse out anyone who oppressed her then could turn around and flash him and his brothers a sweet smile all within a matter of moments. She withstood being roughly thrown to the ground when she was a child and screamed at by a man who thought she was nothing because of his own prejudices and what Harding had fed to him.

But he understood the Tawankan tribe, they took care of their own. And Colt would do the best he could to take care of Jo, too. Plus, it'd give him the opportunity to see if Jason was being held there.

"I'm going with you," he said then looked to the Jacksons, who started to inch in the opposite direction of the elevators. "Tum, you stay with them."

Colt half expected Tum-Tum to throw a mild fit, missing out on the 'best parts' of the day, but was surprised when Tum-Tum nodded, pulling the neck portion of his gi up to cover his mouth. He looked to Patrick and Noah, who nodded back from beneath the hoods of their sweatshirts. Colt smiled to himself, suddenly proud of his little brother. (Not that he'd ever tell him). Tum-Tum was usually in his own world, sort of stayed out of the drama and waited for his brothers—or anyone else—to make a decision for him, but didn't want to miss out on the fun.

Back when Tum-Tum stood up to their dad to defend his friends, Colt was surprised, now he was proud to see Tum-Tum being aware of what his friends needed to move forward, just as he was doing with Jo.

There was a maturity to his young brother he hadn't seen in a long time.

"We'll go with them," Riley said to her brothers, nodding to Jo and Colt. "You lot find dad, or _anything _that'll clear his name."

"You sure?" Patrick asked.

"They're not going to know how to get through the doors if one of us doesn't go. If anything happens, we've got Rocky and Rhuben outside to warn us. Go!" The young boys nodded and raced toward the closest locked door. It took a second before a beeping from the keypad allowed them entry into the next secured area. Then Riley turned back to the others and said, "Elevators don't run this late unless you have a key, only security has it, we'll have to use the stairs."

That was all Jo needed to hear before she led the group to the stairs. Colt made sure to bring up the rear, being careful to keep the door from slamming shut. As they moved up the stairs, Colt was aware of how differently they all moved; he was light on his feet, years of ninja training making him able to do so, Jo and Cloud moved on the balls of their feet, moving faster and faster as the seconds passed. Riley raced u the stairs, pumping her arms, as if doing speed runs on a football field, keeping pace with them. All striving toward the same goal.

They made it to the fourth floor before the sound of a slamming door and footsteps from above made them stop. Quickly, Riley grabbed the door nearest them and the four slipped through. Colt blinked hard, eyes adjusting to the darkness seconds before a bright light shone in his face.

"Hey!" He heard a sharp voice call. "What are you doing here?"

A squawking noise accompanied the voice, making Colt immediately fall into a defensive, fighting stance. Around him, Jo, Cloud, and Riley did the same. Jo immediately pulled her arm back, stringing a bow in her quiver within the flashing movements of her hands. Cloud hunched over, holding a club in his hand, drumming his fingertips along the grip wrapped around the club. Riley balled her hands into fists, shifting her weight to her heels.

The security lowered the flashlight and reached to grab the walkie-talkie that sat on his hip. "None of you move," he declared. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "Jack said you were going to show up eventually. Didn't think it was going to be this soon."

"Shit," Colt murmured under his breath.

He knew Harding would have a fail-safe plan up his sleeve, but he hadn't expected him to put the building's security on his payroll. Jack had been more thorough than any of them gave him credit for. He had years to plan things down to the last detail…so he thought there was a chance that Rocky, Colt, Tum-Tum, and the Tawankans were going to return. If the very big, beefed up security was anything to go by, Harding wasn't going to go down easily.

The walkie-talkie crackled as the security brought it to his mouth. "I've got four of them on the—"

_Fwip!_

It took Colt a second to recognize the sound of an arrow flying by his head before a loud scream replaced it. He looked down the hall to see a security guard falling to his knees, grabbing his shoulder at the arrow that had embedded itself into and through his shoulder from the speed it'd been released from Jo's bow.

Everything happened at once.

Colt felt a presence behind him at the same time the first security guard started to scream, falling to his knees. Instinctively, he whipped around and sent a roundhouse kick to the side of the head of the security guard that came out from the stairwell. It was a glancing blow, the security guard brought his head back before Colt could connect solidly, making him spin around to regain his footing.

The security guard shot with the arrow finally dropped his hand from his walkie, stopping the transmission that he'd sent out. Nevertheless, his screams had grabbed attention of other security guards, all at once, the hallway was filled. The first security guard screamed directions at the others that appeared.

The bravest of the new ones raced toward the group with a raised fist. Cloud surged forward and raised his arm in response, a club in hand. He ducked out of the way of the fist that was flying toward him and clubbed the attacker in the head with the club he held tightly in his fist. The security guard was felled like a tree.

After landing back on his feet, Colt dropped down into a judo sweep, knocking the legs of the security guard out from beneath him. The security guard fell to his knee and Colt turned, driving his elbow towards his face. "Aiya!" The security guard blocked, pushing Colt hard on the elbow so that he extended, nearly driving himself straight to the ground. Colt placed his palm flat on the ground and flipped himself over.

He landed on his knees and turned back toward the security guard with raised arms, blocking himself from being hit in the face with a straight punch. "Ai! Aiya!" Colt blocked the hit, mimicking the move the security guard used on him, and delivered a karate chop straight into the guard's neck. The guard gasped falling to the ground.

Having moved her weight to her heels, Riley used it to allow herself to bring her legs back and drop into a plank position when a security guard swung a punch toward her face. She popped herself back up, expertly pulling off a pop up, as if on a surfboard, and brought herself into a fighting position. She flipped down onto her hand and did a one-handed freeze, bringing her feet over to kick the security guard in the neck. She dropped back to her feet as he hunched over, grasping at the immediate reddening of his neck.

Then, with a backflip, she evaded grab that the security guard tried to catch her with, and struck hard and quick with a kick to the face, chest, and stomach. When her foot connected with the security guard's face, a loud crunching sound emanated from his nose before blood gushed out down his face and soaked to the floor. Howling, the security guard glared at her before working to bring himself up from his knees.

_Fwip!_

The cloth from his pants got pinned to the ground with an arrow launched from Jo's bow. Riley looked toward Jo with a nod of thanks. Jo nodded back, bringing her hand behind her back, ready to string another bow. "This will go a lot easier for you if you tell us where Harding is," Jo growled.

The security guard grinned, gums and teeth filed with blood. "As if we're going to make it that easy for you."

Riley shrugged. "She warned you, mate," she said before driving a solid punch into the guard's face, twisting his head as he fell to the ground. He fell opposite the way his leg was pinned, a loud cracking sound filling the air as he fell.

Colt, finally, knocked out the guard attacking him with a kick to the solar plexus. He backed away, pressing his weight to the balls of his feet when he felt the loud breath escape from the guard as eh wind was knocked out of him. He watched Cloud dispatch the last of the guards, moving like lightning through the guards that converged on him, blood flying as he attacked them with clubs.

"Come on! We have to go!" He called impatiently.

"Get to the door, I'll open it!" Riley replied.

Colt joined Jo and Cloud as they raced to the security doors at the other end of the hall. Riley went to the window and flashed the warning signal to Rocky and Rhuben then joined them. She punched in the code to the keypad and led the group in through the next door.

Now that Jack knew they were there, they had to move fast before he got away.


	39. Step Two: Get To The Computer

**Chapter 39**

* * *

Sweat rolled down the back of Tum-Tum's neck. For a moment, he wondered why he'd allowed himself to be talked into wearing his gi when they were going to be running around a large medical facility. Not that he expected he would ever be doing that, but without the air conditioning that'd be regularly running through the day, it made things within his gi worse.

Not to mention, his adrenaline was running faster than he'd ever had it run before. There was always a point before his wrestling matches where he would start to bounce around on his toes, waiting for the start. His fingers would flutter at his sides and he would watch his opponent from across the room, working to figure out what would be the best way to take him down.

When he was still heavy, he definitely threw his weight around. Sometimes he even went so far as to flip his opponent over and sit on top of them, pinning them down until they decided they were going to give up. When he got better at wrestling, and started to lose the weight, he started to use it in his sparring against his brothers. Rocky, he managed to beat once, and seeing the stunned expression in his brother's blue eyes was priceless for him. But it only happened once, Rocky adapted quickly and since then, Tum-Tum hadn't been able to beat him.

Colt, on the other hand, he's managed to beat a few times. There were more than enough times Tum-Tum would break out a sudden wrestling move that he'd adapt into his ninja and found a way to come out on top. And, as much as Colt hated to lose, he despised it whenever Tum-Tum was able to best him. However, he didn't get over his ego long enough to figure out the ways to escape Tum-Tum's moves and only worked to fight harder.

Often, Colt still won, but it was satisfying for Tum-Tum when the time came.

Now, however, he was completely out of his element. Trespassing, sneaking around, breaking into places he'd grown used to with his past of being a ninja. But having to completely try to put together a mystery, trying to find people who may or may not have been kidnapped on a grand scale, and something that was affecting the _entire _city was something he wasn't used to.

The amount of pressure that pushed onto his shoulders on a daily basis, increasing as the seconds passed, as the days went by, was starting to affect him more than he thought. It was a big deal, what they were doing to take down Harding and MedoCal and things could easily go wrong.

Nevertheless, there was a sense of justice within him that he couldn't stop and that's what found him with his back pressed against a wall and waiting as Patrick, Noah, or Sydney would throw a code into a pin-pad and another door would slide open for them to pass through. As they ran, he could hear footsteps moving closer and away from them as they went.

Every time they heard something, they'd stop and wait and hold their breaths until they were sure things were safe again. In those moments, Tum-Tum blocked out everything from his mind, but the situation they were in and if there was any danger coming toward them. It wouldn't take long before he could pinpoint where the footsteps were heading directly. (All the times his grandpa made him sit quietly in a forest and listen to everything around him finally paid off). When they heard anything coming close, he'd make them stop, listen, and let them know whether to hide or keep going.

Finally, after numerous doors and passages that they passed through, Tum-Tum recognized the floor being the one that he and his brothers had gotten to when they first made it to MedoCal. (Looking back on it, Tum-Tum was surprised and mystified that the one time Rocky didn't have an actual plan past getting past the front desk and they made it that far). They passed through the door after Patrick punched in the keypad and slipped into the quiet hallway.

Knowing they were in the clear, Tum-Tum slowed to look through each passing room as the other boys headed to the end of the hall. He cupped his hands around his face and peered into the rooms that seemed to be abandoned and yet, were completely immaculate. Almost as if they'd ever been used. Like the rooms had been staged in case anyone came in to do some sort of an inspection for it.

And it was room after room that appeared to do the same thing.

Clean rooms, clean tables, clean floors. Completely sterile. Aa set up. An act. Even the room that seemed to hold a horde of beakers and bottles and test tubes looked as if it were a set for a TV show or movie. A 'what does a pharmaceutical company look like?' and then they decided to stage things. Tum-Tum had no idea what actually was within a pharmaceutical company, but he knew seeing was believing. Everything his friends and peers saw about a police department and how it worked was not true, compared to what he saw his father do within his job in the FBI and the things his father had told him years before.

"What?" Tum-Tum turned away from the window and saw Patrick studying him closely. "What do you see?"

"Nothing," Tum-Tum replied.

"Then why are you spending all your time lookin' through those bloody windows?"

Tum-Tum smiled lightly to himself. "No, not that there's _nothing_, but that I'm not looking at much of anything. These offices and rooms, they're…kind of weird. Like they were abandoned."

"I think we already knew that, mate." Nevertheless, Patrick moved toward his friend and gently nudged Tum-Tum out of the way. He peered inside and frowned. "Is that creepy to anyone else? It's, like, totally set up."

"Exactly."

Noah frowned and shook his head. "Then we need to get to dad's office. Maybe there's some answers in there." He shrugged. "Or maybe he started to figure things out and that's why Harding took him." He looked over when the sound of a door opening caught his attention, and he saw Sydney slip inside his father's office. Patrick, Noah, and Tum-Tum hurried after him with Tum-Tum gently closing the door behind him.

Once safely out of the hallway, he reached up and pulled down the hood of his gi. He looked around the office, the same office he'd been in before. It as lively before (before his father stormed in and embarrassed him) but now it was eerily silent. Much more furnished and livelier to match Reed's personality, but it was like all his knickknacks and things waiting for him to return.

Sydney immediately went over to the computer and dropped down into the office chair. It took only a few seconds before he was logged onto Reed's computer. This time, however, Tum-Tum noticed it appeared to be a different desktop rather than what they'd seen in the previous months. It suddenly reminded him of when they first started to go on the internet, where their mom had made profiles specifically for them on their computer and there were parental blocks that they couldn't get through. His, being the youngest, was more kid-friendly compared to Rocky's and Colt's.

It was what came to mind the second he'd seen Reed's desktop come up, filled to the brim with notifications and files that made Tum-Tum's head spin. Clearly it wasn't a 'kid friendly' version of it. "You know your dad's password?" Sam wasn't a very tech savvy man—he still had to ask for help how to take music from his computer to put on his phone—but he at least knew to change his password enough so that his sons would be able to access any classified information they shouldn't stumble upon.

"You know your dad's password?" Tum-Tum asked.

Sydney snorted; eyes focused firmly on the glow of the computer screen. "There isn't any computer that anyone has made that I haven't found a way to get through yet." He bobbed his head back and forth. "But I reckon my mum wouldn't be happy with me having the government tailing me s…"

"And hacking into dad's computer is…what, exactly?" Noah asked, ruffling his hair. Sydney slumped away from him and leaned closer to the computer screen. Tum-Tum moved closer to see what it was as well.

But all he could see was lines and lines and lines of what looked like money reports. Thousands upon thousands of dollars that went from hundred dollar increments to incredibly high ones. All seemingly endless as it kept scrolling down. Tum-Tum tilted his head aside.

"So…what are we looking at exactly?" He asked. "I think if I see any more zeroes my eyes are going to cross."

"This can't be what the bloke is making off of the supplements," Noah murmured.

"That's because it's not," Sydney replied. His eyebrows slammed together, eyes shifting over the screen as he continued to scroll. "It looks like money that's being moved. Or invested?" His nose wrinkled. "It's being put into some strange things, and look, some payments are split up."

"When did it start?" Tum-Tum asked.

"Ummmm." For a few more minutes, Sydeny continued to scroll. Then he leaned back and looked Tum-Tum in the eye. "When was the ninja tournament?"

Like Tum-Tum would forget. It was the first time he'd won anything that big. And, even better, his brothers hadn't won in their division either. It was something, finally, that he'd managed to do better than his big brothers and get the recognition for it. Instead of just being treated as the 'little tag along' that they said he was. Tum-Tum rambled off the date and Sydney pointed at the screen.

"Started the same time as the tournament."

"So, Harding started his plan to get out of here the second the tournament was announced," Patrick said. "That makes sense for what we've already seen. But…where is he going and how does he plan on getting there?"

"Maybe he met up with Medusa and is going to run off with her," Tum-Tum joked. "It doesn't matter _where _he's going! Just that we stop him before we can get there!" He folded his arms. "Look, we already know the tournament was fake, that the money from that and the supplements he's touting he's been taking for a quick buck. We know he's been doing this since he was in prison. What we have to figure out is where he is now and where he's got Jason and your dad. Can you figure that out through your fancy hacking?"

"It didn't take much to get into this, they log onto the same network," Sydney explained. "And hacking through a firewall isn't hard when it's the basic set up. Trying to get into Harding's computer, specifically, will be harder, yeah? If he was able to work this long to transfer his money, then he'd at least have a way to keep from even the FBI from getting into it."

"So, that's a 'no'?" Patrick asked after a brief pause. Noah slapped his hand over his face while Sydney rolled his eyes.

"Yes, that's a 'no'," Sydney replied. "It could take days for me to even come up with an idea of how to get in. Unless we can get to his computer."

Everything seemed to move in slow motion within the next few seconds. Tum-Tum heard the sound of the doorknob turning and the latch unlocking too late. His muscles all tensed at once, wondering how he'd managed to let his ninja skills become so lax that he hadn't sensed or noticed the sounds of the guards coming closer to them. He started to turn around, ready to lash out at the man but froze once more at the sound of a gun cocking within the split second he saw it.

_Blam!_

Tum-Tum leapt backwards, bringing his hands up to cover his head at the same time that Patrick and Noah knocked Sydney to the ground while the computer in front of them exploded in a shower of sparks and glass. He looked up in time to see the man in the doorway lower his gun for a minute, eyes sweeping the area to find the boys.

Tum-Tum propelled himself across the ground with a push of his hands and he swiped out his leg. His foot connected with the man's ankle. With a cry, the man turned around, aiming for Tum-Tum, only to receive a strong kick to the chest when Tum-Tum lifted himself up. He flipped to his feet, watching as the man stumbled backwards, bringing his hand to where he'd been hit.

The man recovered quickly and swung out his arm, moving to smack Tum-Tum across the face. He cried out when Tum-Tum ducked and the man's wrist connected with the doorframe behind him. The man growled and turned back toward Tum-Tum once more. But this time Tum-Tum was ready, he whipped up his foot and snapped it into the man's hand. The gun knocked free and slid across the ground. Before the man could reach for him, Tum-Tum was on him again.

He leapt onto the man's back and, holding onto the man's shoulders, he leaned back with all his body weight. The man cried out as the weight double on his back and he tried to keep from rocking on his heels. Nevertheless, Tum-Tum shifted his arms to tighten around the man's neck, cutting off his air supply. When the man fell to his knees, Tum-Tum rolled forward until his feet was on the ground and abruptly changed his grasp into a chokehold.

The man gurgled, bringing up his hands to try and knock Tum-Tum off him, but as the seconds passed, Tum-Tum held him tighter. Finally, the man made one last choking-gurgling sound before he fell face first onto the ground, snoring. Finally, Tum-Tum released his grasp and stood up.

"Is he dead?" Sydney asked quietly, moving out from behind the desk.

"No," Tum-Tum replied confidently. "Just knocked out. I might've pressed on his jugular a little bit too long but…" he shrugged, bringing his hood back up to cover his head. "He was trying to kill us."

"Yeah, and he managed to murder the computer before we could get any thing off it," Patrick declared.

"Not quite," Sydney replied. "I was at least able to figure out that all the computers were on the same network and are visible to each other. Harding didn't allow remote access, but it's there. If we get to his computer, then we'll probably be able to figure out where he's planning on going."

"And if we run into anyone else, at least we know Tum-Tum can take them down with a press to the neck," Patrick said sarcastically.


	40. Step Three: Find Out The Truth

**Chapter 40**

* * *

_Click. Flash._

"Argh! What the hell was that? I can't see!"

"Aiya!"

Rocky leapt high in the air and his foot connected with JJ's stomach. JJ's hands moved from his eyes to his stomach. "Oof!" All the wind was knocked out of him with the one kick to his stomach. JJ fell on his back on the ground while the men around him dropped whatever they were holding on to and scattered like flies.

"There's plenty more where that came from, mate," Rhuben said, waving her camera over JJ's face. "If you don't tell us everything you know."

"I don't know anything," JJ replied, continuing to switch between rubbing his eyes to holding his stomach. He rolled back and forth as he waited for the pain to subside. A strange wheezing sound escaped his lips when he tried to breathe and speak at the same time. Rocky knelt and grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him upwards. JJ's eyes widened in surprise. His mouth dropped open and he gaped like a fish for a few minutes. "You…" he squeaked. "Not you again. No! Why are you here? Why are you doing this to me?"

"What is Harding up to?" Rocky demanded, moving close to Rocky's face. "Why is he doing this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," JJ replied.

Rocking back on his heels, Rocky pulled JJ forward and up until he the two were standing. JJ's eyes widened even further. Whether it was from the glaring blue eyes from below Rocky's mask, the mask itself, or the fact that the last time JJ had seen Rocky was when he was just into his teen years. Rocky, now being seventeen, was standing taller than he had then, while JJ had stayed the same height. And while gathering his height from Sam, Rocky was able to stay upright while holding JJ off the ground, his toes barely scraping against the concrete beneath him.

"Spill your guts and we'll go easy on you," Rhuben commented. When JJ's eyes shifted toward her, she started to take a few steps back toward the van, the doors of which were still open. "Or I could just…" she turned the camera toward the shadow covered items inside. While keeping her gaze on JJ she pressed her finger into the shutter, a flash going off. "Whoops!"

"Hey! Don't do tha…" JJ whimpered when Rocky let him go and backed away, folding his arms over his chest. JJ threw up his hands. "Okay, okay, okay, just please don't hurt me."

Rocky sighed and rolled his eyes behind his mask. He'd expected some sort of resistance before he had to threaten JJ. And, part of him had hoped he'd be able to get some sort of a chance to throw his weight around with his martial arts on Harding's goons before it got to the point where they were begging for their lives.

_Unless he wanted to get caught. _The thought shot through Rocky's head before he could stop it. He clenched his hands into fists, eyes shifting around the area in case something was coming he didn't expect. In case there was something JJ—for once—had up his sleeve.

Rocky tipped his head, indicating for JJ to continue. Gave him the same look he gave his brothers when he wanted them to get to the point about their ramblings. JJ held up his hands, continuing to take tiny steps away from Rocky.

"Uncle Jack didn't give me a choice but to do this," JJ said. "I wanted to do my time and get on with life. Prison wasn't so bad, but Uncle Jack had too much to lose. He wanted to get back at everyone that ruined his plans."

"With making the natives sick?" Rocky demanded.

"The natives had nothing to do with it," JJ said. He continued to tremble, but his voice was clearer, as if glad to finally be able to explain everything he'd done over the last few years. "Everything was about money. Harding's businesses were money laundering businesses and the landfill was just the runoff of one of the fake businesses he set up."

"So MedoCal is a fake business?" Rocky asked.

JJ nodded. "But he has to make everything look real so that law enforcement doesn't look too far into his dealings."

"And the drugs?" Rocky asked. "You were using MedoCal to make drugs—"

"—To funnel money even further," Rhuben concluded. Rocky looked at her and noticed her frown as she reached up to rub her chin. Her eyes narrowed, shifted back and forth. "The money made off the drugs was passed from the hands of those that were hawking it at the tournament to Harding, who then put the money in an offshore account, yeah?" She turned her narrowed eyes to JJ and glared. "The tournament was real, but Harding used it to lure Sam Douglas in, in some way. To keep him from being suspicious, while he used my dad to be the public figure that was pushing it forward in case things went south quicker than you lot anticipated."

Rocky watched JJ as he nodded all the while. It appeared that the sniveling man was telling the truth. Still, something was wrong, he could feel it. Rocky took a step back and looked toward the van, thee boxes that had been put inside. He brushed by her, peering into the boxes. He grabbed one and pulled it toward him, tilting it toward the light.

He peered at the pages that flipped toward him, scanning over the names, figures, and numbers that continued to flip through. A lot of MedoCal…and the former names the company had gone by, but all of them being registered toward Harding. With the date of its conception being when he was still in prison.

_We were right, he was doing this from prison with his connections. Maybe from the people he bribed once before. Not all his players were fired... _He remembered how he'd had a long conversation with his father about how the city officials that hadn't been fired but simply put on 'administrative leave' (paid and unpaid) while Harding and some of the men closer to him were put tried and put in prison.

Sam had simply said it was what happened when it was law enforcement and highly ranked officials that were the criminals. They still had the pull to twist things around to make themselves appear to be the victim and it probably wouldn't end anytime soon.

Rocky simply frowned, trying to workout how anyone could be that above the law. His father and Jerry didn't seem to think they were. They were some of the few people Rocky knew who followed every single law and rule that had been set up. To the point that Rocky couldn't remember the last time Sam had even jaywalked. (Let alone not snapped at him for doing so. "Don't give anyone a reason to stop you or pull you over. Police are supposed to be on your side, but you may find one who is coming off a bad day and has nothing to lose.")

"Where's my dad?" Rhuben demanded.

"I don't know!"

"Where's Jason?" Rocky pushed himself away from the van and turned back to JJ. When JJ repeated, "I don't know," Rocky got up and close and personal with him. Then repeated the question. "Where is he?"

"I'm telling you I don't know! Uncle Jack said we had to get out of here as fast as we could because you guys and the natives were starting to figure out what we were up to and he wanted to get away with his money. But he wanted one last payday, so he took the kid so that his parents would pay a large ransom and held onto Jackson to let him take the fall."

"Then what?" Rocky demanded.

"Jackson started to figure things out and I was told to-"

"—Were you his boss?"

"—Yes." JJ blinked. "What does that have to do with anything?"

_Hardass. Okay, that joke makes sense now, _Rocky thought. He remembered the Jacksons saying they gave him the nickname as a joke, since their father's boss was nothing short of a dork. _If you walk like a dork and talk like a dork…_Rocky gazed at JJ, who continued to tremble before him. Definitely a dork. Rocky sighed. Clearly JJ wasn't much of a threat for them, he was singing like a canary…

A chill ran down Rocky's spine.

He took a step back and looked around the alleyway. He glanced back toward MedoCal, trying to find his brothers through the darkened windows. All he could see was darkness inside, not even shadows of them running to the next floor.

Not even shadows of the security guards…

Rocky's eyes widened at the realization. At the same time, he turned around he heard a gun shot ring out. Instinctively, he dropped to the ground, seconds before hearing a _plink _sound of a bullet lodging itself into one of the opened back doors of the van. There was a second shot and the glass of the window shot out, shattering across the ground.

JJ got to his feet and started to scramble away. He turned back to look over his shoulder and Rhuben flashed off another picture of him. The flash made JJ cry out and reach up his hands to block his eyes once more. Without being able to see where hew as going, he ran straight into the open door of the passenger side of the van.

_Thwang!_

JJ reeled back on the ground, grabbing his face.

Rocky looked up to see security guards had come up behind them without him noticing. Still crouched toward the ground, he kicked out his foot and judo swept the leg of one of the security guards out from beneath him. He fell to the ground, his head hitting with a sickening thud. The other security guard lifted his gun, aiming toward Rocky once more.

Rocky ducked and rolled behind a line of trash cans. There was another shot, this time the bullet hitting the ground where he'd bene before. A spark exploded where the bullet hit. Rocky grabbed the lid off the trash can he landed nearest to and flung it like a frisbee toward the guards. It struck the guard in the neck and he fell over.

The other guard then discarded his gun and he went with his fists, swinging toward Rocky's head. Rocky ducked back out of the way, vaulted over the trash cans and kicked him in the chest. "Aiya! Ai! Aiya!" Rocky used the momentum of kicking the guard in the chest to lean back, kick him in the neck, and lean even higher, showing off his flexibility to kick him in the face.

Suddenly, he found his arms pinned to his sides and himself lifted off the ground. The guard behind him then flung him forward to drop him on his face on the concrete. For a split second, Rocky was sure he was about to have his nose bashed in. But then he hugged his arms tighter to his sides, the sudden slack in the grip around him made the security guard falter, giving Rocky enough time to slide down from his grasp.

He landed on his knees and lifted, balancing the security guard on his back. "Aiya!" He grabbed the security guard's arms and flipped him over onto his back on the ground. Then Rocky flipped over him and did a high jump kick to knock the other security guard back to the ground.

Rocky turned, worried that JJ had gotten away, and watched as Rhuben took care of him herself. As he tried to get away, she took her camera off from around her neck and used the strap as a weapon. She slid the strap down JJ's waist, and it caught around his ankle. Sliding backwards, she pulled her arm at the same time and pulled on the strap of the camera, stretching his legs out in a split.

JJ cried out in pain, grabbing his junk as he crashed to the ground. Rhuben pressed her hands to his back and flipped over him in a cartwheel before turning back and kicked JJ straight in the face. He fell to the ground, a low snorting sound coming from his mouth. Rocky recognized the sound; of the wind being knocked out of you…and when you were knocked out.

JJ was out cold.

Rocky turned back to the security guards, noticing the gun pointed in his face once more. He grabbed the guard's wrist and twisted it to the side, hearing it crack. The guard screamed out in pain, dropping the gun. Rocky caught it in his other hand and with a few flicks of his wrist, he dismantled it, dropping the bullets to the ground.

Ninja training aside, guns weren't his favorite thing. Despite having been taught how to use one when his father took him and his brothers to the firing range. (And, apparently, he and his brothers were good shots).

Silence settled down around them. It was scary to him, honestly, how easily the silence came back. LA was a noisy place; if the traffic wasn't heard, then there was always some sort of party going on, if there wasn't a party, there was a gathering of some sort, or some sort of altercation. But there was nothing."

"Mate, you alright?" Rhuben asked.

"Yeah," Rocky replied after a second. He'd never felt better. "Come on, we have to find the others."

With that, Rocky led the way into MedoCal, running as fast as he could to reach his brothers before they made a mistake. Before any of them made any bigger mistakes than they had that night, then he stumbled upon the maimed bodies of the security guards. His eyes widened momentarily, seeing the arrows that stuck out of their skin, heard their moans of pain.

Then he thought of the men who were left on the ground outside and pushed his thoughts aside. He'd already talked to the others about it, warned them before they went charging inside. They couldn't hold back. But guilt still rolled through him. They were doing what they were told to do. _They would've killed you, _he reminded himself, squeezing his eyes shut. _They wouldn't have hesitated to do so. They pulled a gun on you!_

But still, the thought of being the reason for someone's death. For turning that corner and becoming something he would never be able to come back from. Becoming _something _he didn't think he'd be able to handle. A simple choice would have him turn that corner. And while there were many things he didn't question in life, there were some things he couldn't bring himself to do.

Part of that was not tainting the practices his grandfather taught him. Ninja was taught for self-discipline and self-defense and wasn't taught to kill. Snyder hadn't gotten that memo, the ninja he taught his students were Mori's teachings tailored to be a means of murder. And while Mori, over the years, had told Rocky and Colt some of the ways he'd managed to do so, as a warning to keep them from doing the same (and to warn of the pull of turning to the dark side of the spirituality of ninja when the lust of winning came to be too great).

So many choices that could be made in life that held more consequences than even the strongest of men could withstand.

They raced closer and closer to the top floor. Finally, Rocky turned a corner, Rocky breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw his brothers and his friends. "Stop," Rocky cried firmly. All eyes turned his way, accusing and questioning. "Jason and Mr. Jackson aren't here." He lifted his mask to rest atop his head. "But I know where they are."


	41. Step Four: Have An 'In' On The Other Side

**Chapter 41**

* * *

"Sam, you need to relax."

Sam turned a glare to Jerry, who looked back at his partner and friend with almost a detached look. As if waiting for the response that was to come. Having had seen it many times before. Knowing there was no point to even make a comment, Sam Douglas was going to do whatever he wanted when he wanted.

And the last thing he was going to do was relax. Especially when his sons were at stake.

"I know you think everything with Snyder is happening all over again," Jerry continued, ignoring Sam's glare. He watched as Sam paced the floor of his office, eyes shooting towards the phone that sat on his desk. Waited for it to ring. Waited for any news of anything. "But this isn't the same thing!"

Because, for the first time in a long time, he wasn't sure how to move forward. And that wasn't a situation, as a FBI Director, he found himself in very often. Let alone a position he enjoyed being in. Being completely honest, there were days where things didn't go 'as planned' that he found to be interesting. He had to take the time to figure out what it was with the case he was working on that was different and how to move forward.

There were days where he thought he'd be doing a lot of paperwork, a lot of calls, following up on leads, and the next thing he knew, someone on the Most Wanted List was found and he had to fly across the country to witness the fugitive being taken in at the airport. And yet, every day ended the same, he went home to his family.

His wife, his kids.

He didn't return happy; his job took a lot out of him. But he always returned to them. And they were the ones who were happy to see he was doing well enough to come back. How many times had he and Jessica argued about the long days and long nights he spent on cases? Leaving her to be the one to solely raise their children? How many times had they argued over how he was trying to provide for the family and it wasn't his fault that they had to spend so much time with their grandparents simply _because _he was working so long?

Nevertheless, he always knew where his children were.

Until he didn't.

The first time the cold, freezing cold of terror shot through him had been when he saw Snyder's ransom note in Emily's hand, where he read the words that threatened their lives and his if he didn't stop hunting Snyder. It came again, a little less cold, but still freezing when he heard of them running off to Japan to entangle themselves in…something about a martial arts tournament, a dagger, their grandfather, and a man who may or may not be trying to get revenge. By the third time, when he called up to the cabin to see how they were doing and they'd mentioned something about a Native American tribe and a man named Jack Harding, Sam hardly blinked. He immediately snapped into action with Medusa and Mega Mountain.

He grew used to the small-time things the boys helped with; the car jackings, the robberies, defending friends. _That _he could handle. _That _was fine. Knowing they'd willingly thrown themselves into something so big again, where they couldn't _just sit still _for once in their lives. That was the part that was torture.

The part that was more human, that hurt him, was the pain of wondering when it was all going to stop. Would it be when Rocky went off to college? When Colt got married? When Tum-Tum started to have kids of his own? Who was he kidding? There were too many things that the boys would do in their lifetimes, but the one thing they wouldn't be able to give up was how much they cared about other people and how they had to help.

No matter how much trouble and danger it put themselves into.

And it was that danger and trouble that managed to leak over into their friends' lives, and now one of them was missing. The other was going on a revenge mission. And the other two were being left behind to do God knows what while they waited. Then there were the Jacksons…

"Sam!"

"What?"

"You need to get a grip!" Jerry moved closer and grasped Sam's arm just above the elbow. Sam started to move away, but stopped when Jerry tightened his grasp along his arm, pressing his fingers tightly into Sam's muscle. Grabbed his attention. "You can't get like this every time something happens with the boys."

"I can't help it," Sam replied, calming down a little. "It's always the same thing; I think they get the hint that it's not smart to keep running into these things, but they keep doing it."

Jerry shook his head. "Do you really think the boys are just going to sit back while something, _anything _is happening to their friend?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Look, I know my own son isn't a prize. I've struggled keeping Darryl on track for years, but even I can say with an air of pride that your boys would run to help him no matter what trouble he got himself into. That's something to be proud about, not worry about."

Sam shook his head, lowered his chin, letting out a deep breath. His blonde fringe flopped over his forehead, hiding his eyes from his partner and best friend-in that area of his life. His mind switched to his partner and best friend of the more important part of his life—his wife. She was probably tearing asphalt to get to him at that moment, when he finally pulled his attention away from Jerry and noticed that Colt was gone from the Cross's driveway and that cold feeling of dead washed over him.

They were going to do something, even if it was something he didn't want.

So when he got news that there was something going to happen at MedoCal, that there would be police stationed there, Sam knew there was a bit of a reprieve from his worry. His team would be there, would be back up for the boys and the Jacksons. He knew they'd be there, too. Their father was missing, it wasn't normal for a family man to not return home and not call his wife.

Renee had said so when Sam called her, telling her what was going on and asking if she'd noticed anything out of the ordinary. Renee had, initially, chuckled and said, "Los Angeles is a different beast than Sydney, everything here is out of the ordinary. Then her voice grew solemn and she said, "My husband didn't call me today."

Sam hadn't though tit was too strange, there were days where he and Jessica forgot to call each other, or just missed picking up the phone. But Renee was insistent, Reed had never forgotten. And when he finally had, it was when things with MedoCal were starting to become too big to ignore.

"We've got all the information we need," Jerry continued. "We know where Harding is going, know what he's doing. He'll be at the airport tonight, and we've got the police stationed there. We just need to make sure that Jason and Reed are where we think they are. That's the most important part."

"No, the most important part is getting Harding," Sam insisted. He brought up a hand and rubbed it over his mouth. "I know my sons can handle whatever it is they're getting themselves into."

Jerry shook his head. "You know protocols—"

"—When was the last time my boys followed anything with protocol. They're smart boys, Jer." He chuckled to himself. "Somehow, they found out about Jason and the Crosses before we did. Maybe even longer than we know. The Crosses had always been a cash cow for Harding. Having a set of parents who, at worst, neglect their child daily, it's easy to have things fly under the radar. I've had that kid living under my roof long enough to know what worries him about his parent and he always manages to land on his feet. He jokes all the time, doesn't seem to care much of what happens to him. And that was Jason's downfall."

Jerry placed his hands on his hips, watching Sam intently. But with a peculiar smile on his face, as if he knew exactly where Sam was going. "And?"

"And, he played right into what Harding wanted." Sam lifted his chin and looked Jerry in the eye. "We've been tracking Harding since he was released from prison we…" he took in a deep breath, clearing his throat. "We talked to him, warned him about what would happen if he stepped out of bounds…"

Jerry nodded in agreement.

_Harding walked right up and knocked on the window. He stood back as the door opened and Sam Douglas unfolded himself, staring at Harding as he did so. Harding slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks and said around his cigar, "Douglas. We need to talk."_

_"Yes, we do," Sam replied._

He'd jumped when Harding approached him, but otherwise was the one in control of the conversation. Of the warning that Harding was being watched. Being tailed. Being surveilled and watched within an inch of his life. One slip-up and he was done.

Back in prison.

The game was over.

And Harding had simply smiled back at him, chuckled, clamped his teeth around his cigar and said, "You have too much time on your hands, Sam. Too much time." He moved as it to patronize Sam, to reach out and pat his hand on the side of Sam's face. As he would've done to JJ or any of his other lackeys. But he'd figured out how bad an idea it would be the moment his hand was in midair.

So Harding stopped himself and placed his hand on the lapel of his suit, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles. "I'm a changed man, you'll see that once you get your reports back."

"I've always found that, after a certain age, it's hard for people to change," Sam continued. He had watched Harding when he said so, studied him for any sort of sign, some tell that would prove his guilt. "They refuse to, or think they're capable of it but are set in their ways that they've started since they were teenagers. Even earlier. And there are lots of things about yourself that you can't change, Jack."

"Is that right"

"That's right. You're greedy, and greed is always something that ends up ruining some of the best people. Without fail." Harding shrugged and turned to walk away. "Money isn't the only vice to greed. The only thing that's needed is the intense desire for something. Sam's eyes narrowed. "What is it that you want, Harding?"

Harding turned back to Sam, his face practically carved out of stone he had glared so hard. "I want you to leave me alone, Dougals." And off he went.

It seemed like a loss. Jerry had said as much. But Sam took it as a positive conversation.

Because that conversation, and the way the events unfolded made one thing very clear to Sam. The one thing he was waiting for confirmation on before they could move forward. The one thing that'd keep his wife, who was probably minutes away from FBI headquarters, demanding what was happening to their children, from completely falling to pieces.

Harding wasn't working alone.


	42. Step Five: Rescue The Hostages

**Chapter 42**

* * *

"If you knew where they were the whole time, why didn't you say anything?" Tum-Tum asked as soon as they arrived at the new placement. He turned to Rocky, who pressed his lips together, sliding his mask up off his face to rest on his forehead. "Instead of letting us run around the city all night?" His stomach growled loudly. "I'm starting to get hungry."

Rocky sighed, rolling his eyes at the same time as Colt. Jo smiled gently, her fingers fluttering along the handle of her bow. Cloud merely lifted an eyebrow while the Jacksons looked around impatiently. Rocky understood that frustration, his best friend was somewhere in there and he had no idea what was happening to him. Or even if he was still alive. Jack was a lot of things, and the biggest thing Rocky noticed about Jack was that he was an angry man.

If he were able to try to and take down a young teenage boy by using him as collateral against his parents, then who knew what else Jack would do to Jason?

Every second that passed was a second they were losing, but he needed the others to understand why it was imperative they didn't rush in and make any mistakes they didn't need to make.

"I just…" he held up his hands. "I just think we need to wait for a second. Not go in guns blazing."

Colt's eyes flew open once hearing his brother's words. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened, then closed it again. Rocky let out a quiet sigh, folding his arms, knowing he was probably seconds away from feeling his brother's wrath once more. "You're telling me that we know where they are, and you just want us to wait?" Colt folded his arms. "Are you crazy?"

"Jack is a bloody coward," Riley commented. "If he's going to hole himself up in there and try to get away from the mess he's made, then we have the right to bust in there and kick his ass. Especially after what he's put us through!"

"I'm with her," Colt readily agreed, pointing toward her. Rocky tilted his head, giving his brother a very paternal look. A look that, in his experience, he knew Colt absolutely hated. But there had to be small miracles if Colt ignored that and continued in a calmer, yet insistent tone. "We should just go in, beat him up, and finish this now."

"And what's that going to do?"

"…Uh, save your best friend, save our dad, keep anyone else from getting hurt, finally stop Harding from whatever it is he's doing?" Patrick asked as if it were obvious. "Like there's anything else that we could be doing right now, yeah?"

Rocky glanced at him. He let out a quiet breath and licked his lips, hoping he'd able to adequately explain what was making him hesitate so much. Though, if he were being honest, it wasn't his hesitation that was worrying him. Hesitation was normal and even healthy, but there was something else that was holding him back about the situation.

They handled a lot of things by themselves, without waiting for the police presence that was normal. But, with Harding being someone who'd been in prison, and was being looked at by the FBI, he didn't want there to be a chance that they were potentially going to throw themselves into a situation they weren't aware of or weren't ready for.

"I know you can be someone who likes to know everything about everything," Tum-Tum continued. "But sometimes you take too long to take action."

Rocky lifted an eyebrow but didn't respond. He didn't think that was true. Almost every time something had gone on with their 'ninja adventures'—as their father had started to call it shortly after what'd happened with Koga—he had to think and make decisions in the moment. Often with only split seconds of time when he needed to have the decision made. And he worried every time.

Would it be a success? Would it fail? Would his brothers get hurt? What'd happen to everyone around them?

So far, his decisions hadn't gone wrong, but it was only a matter of time.

"Rocky, we don't have time for this," Jo insisted. She moved to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. A comforting hand. That was something about her that he always gravitated toward—it was probably what made him briefly attracted to her in the first place—the calm strength that came from her no matter the circumstances that came before them. Even when it was something that Rocky didn't quite agree with, her strength made things easier to understand his own feelings on things. "If Jason and Mr. Jackson are inside, we don't know if they're being tortured. Remember what happened to my dad?"

Rocky tried not to wince at the memory.

Charlie had been tied up, starved, beaten, dehydrated, and probably could've been on the brink of death had they not found him. They were young at the time; Rocky didn't think too far into things until all the adrenaline finally wore off. Where he stopped and thought about what happened to Charlie and what _could've _happened if they hadn't found him in time. What could've happened if the guys that were chasing them down weren't so inexperienced in capturing kids and…would've done what any guards would've readily been able to do?

A lot of realities and near-misses had slammed into his head when everything slowed down. If Jack were targeting people by the thousands this time, what did that mean or what he would do to them? He already had security guards who weren't afraid to shoot them if the time came. Were there people ready to shoot them down the second they came through the doors?

"I remember," Rocky said. Nevertheless, he still tried to stall for time…tried to stop the flood of sweat that moved to his hands, the rapidly beating in his chest that seemed to come from nowhere, the spike of adrenaline that was a major warning sign he'd never felt before.

"Rocky?" Cloud's voice grabbed his attention.

Rocky looked over to Jo's friend, the person he probably knew the least out of the group around him. But Cloud was also someone he, intuitively, trusted. Whether it was because of the insurmountable amount of trust he'd put within the tribe after becoming an honorary member, or because of that sort of respect the tribe had shown him and his brothers, he knew he could trust Cloud. Something about the way he'd even said his name immediately captured Rocky's attention in a way that commanded the respect, time, and attention it deserved.

"It's your friend" he said finally. He gestured toward the Jacksons. "It's their family. This isn't something that can wait. I understand your hesitation,"—and, somehow, Rocky felt Cloud truly did understand—"but your hesitation can impact you in ways you've never intended. With consequences you weren't anticipating. We can't wait."

Rocky looked back toward the building once more, his eyebrows coming together. He looked back to his friends and nodded. Cloud was right. They couldn't wait. So, with a wave of his hand, Rocky reached up and pulled his mask back down over his face. He led the charge across the parking lot and toward the courthouse, running the same path they had years before to go directly toward the court room.

As he ran, Rocky couldn't help but remember what'd happened when they'd been there last. When the same goons that had attacked the Tawankan tribe had been lying in wait to take them down. How he and Colt had led the charge and knocked them down within seconds. How they were surrounded at almost every turn, nearing the court case over the illegal dumping that Jack was doing to their sacred ground. How every time they turned around, there was someone else ready to grab them until they got inside.

How could he explain to the others, when he was the one who was supposed to be so calm, cool, and collected, that he was afraid of what he'd see as soon as they got inside. Or if they were running right into a trap.

He never used to worry so much, but the stakes had never been so high.

Finally, they made their way to the courtroom. With one look between Rocky and Colt, Jo and Cloud went in first, their weapons drawn and pointed ahead while the others came in behind them. It took only a few seconds for Rocky to notice the scene set in front of him. Hearing the flurry of footsteps before they were taken over by shouts.

He spotted Jason and Reed tied up to chairs, gags over their mouths, surrounded by whom Rocky suspected to be the guards. The guards that were taken down by Jo's arrows and Cloud's club within the few seconds of stunned silence that came after the crash of the doors opening.

"Jase!"

"Dad!"

Rocky surged forward, grasping onto Jason's arm before reaching up to remove the gag tied around his head and into his mouth. He started to smile a little, seeing Jason's tongue poke out along the cloth, working to keep it away from his lips. Finally, the cloth moved away from Jason's mouth and he took a couple of deep breaths of air.

Rocky hovered by his best friend's side, anxiously watching to see if there was anything off from the time that he'd been held up. Relief almost made him collapse to his knees. He'd never had anyone so close to him be in such danger, not since his grandfather had jumped in front of him and his brothers to protect them from Snyder.

A chill ran down his spine as the memory overcame him. He pushed it aside and grasped Jason's arm. "Jase?" He repeated anxiously. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Jason looked back at him, blinked twice, then said with a crooked smile, voice weary and scratchy with fatigue, "What took you so long? I thought your grandfather taught you how to track people faster than that?" Rocky laughed and pulled Jason to his feet, enveloping him in a tight hug. Jason hugged him back, patting him on the shoulder when they pulled away. Jason paused for a second then asked, "Did you bring anything to eat?" Prompting Rocky to laugh once more.

He looked over to the Jacksons, who had dog-piled onto their father in a group hug and then were all talking at once, asking him questions and explain everything they'd done to find him. All the while Reed listened to and responded to each of the in turn, deciphering all the five voices that came his way while giving each of them a hug in turn.

Again, a memory of when he and his brothers had become roped up in Snyder entered his head. When the blast of the gun had gone off and he'd jumped, thinking his grandfather had been shot. Only to open his eyes when he heard his father's voice screaming through the opening of the naval ship, and rush to him, squeezed in a group hug with his brothers when they were finally reunited. How hard he'd held onto his mom when she'd gotten to the shipyard as well.

Their family had grown closer that night, but there'd also been a wedge driven between them that night. Maybe it was from the boys having to grow up so fast afterwards, maybe from throwing themselves into their ninja training so nothing like that happened again, maybe it was the independence they were given once they started to go to therapy. All Rocky knew was since that night, something had changed to where he kept his family close but equally at an arm's length away and seeing the Jacksons with their dad had made it more evident to him.

Though he still couldn't quite understand why.

His mind shifted to his brothers and he looked around the courtroom, finding them nowhere to be found. Something settled in his gut that made him back away from Jason and lift his gaze to scan the courtroom. Patrick and Noah had lifted their dad from the chair he'd been tried to and were bustling him toward the door while Riley and Rhuben had turned their attention to Jason and were supporting him, only stopping when more of Jack's security came into the courtroom.

They quickly moved away from the security, placing Jason and Reed, carefully, back into their chairs before throwing themselves into the fight as well. Rocky shifted his gaze to Jo and Cloud, who were taking care of them guards that hadn't gotten the message and were still working to come after them—a few with arrows still wiggling as they stuck out of the guard's arms—but he didn't see his brothers.

Anytime they were in the middle of something as big as that, not seeing his brothers was always a source of anxiety for him. Not because of his protective nature as a brother, but because of being a team leader of sorts. He glanced toward the Jacksons and Jason—receiving an encouraged nod from his friend—then raced toward the sounds of loud confrontation he could hear coming from a door at the end of the courtroom.

Rocky raced toward it, flinging the door open and allowed his memory of have him follow the path toward the back of the courtroom. There were lots of cases his father kept from them, but there were still the ones that they'd been able to sit in on. Drug lords exchanging their lenience for turning in people they knew and their rivals, gang members who had left the gang but had been hunted down and brought back to testify, murder cases, even the cases they'd been a part of had made them see the inside of multiple courtrooms over the years.

Enough so that Rocky knew the blueprint of the courthouse like the back of his hand, knowing the hallways and rooms that were kept separate from the public; where those employed by the courthouse met, where the judge resided to get paperwork done in between cases, where the jurors went, where the ones that were being detained by the police were held. He knew all of it.

And so, when he heard his brother's kiais and shouting coming from…somewhere…Rocky followed his instincts until he reached the back of the courthouse. He skidded around a corner in time to watch Harding, surprisingly, fending off his brothers.

He was like a wild animal, screaming at the top of his lungs while flailing his arms towards Colt and Tum-Tum. After knocking Colt over, Tum-Tum aimed a high kick toward Jack's cheek but found his foot caught against Jack's chest. Jack tried to knock Tum-Tum over, holding it tightly against his chest, in a similar move that himself and Colt used to use against Tum-Tum when they were wrestling years ago.

But Tum-Tum had years of being on the wrestling team under his belt and knew how to break out of the hold better than anyone else. So much so that the expression of surprise on Jack's face was humorous when Tum-Tum suddenly flipped onto his hands and did a cartwheel. The force of his cartwheel dragged Jack along with him, slamming the older man against the wall, stunning him momentarily. It gave Tum-Tum the opportunity to slide through Jack's arms and move around him, locking his arms behind his back.

For a moment, Rocky thought Tum-Tum had him, but then he saw Jack's arms bulge, his face turning a bright scarlet. Then, in a flash, Jack had knocked Tum-Tum off him and had lifted him by the front of his ninja gi.

"Hey!"

Rocky raced down the hallway, grabbing Jack's attention as he did so. Jack turned his way, just in time for Rocky to leap forward and kick him straight in the chest. Falling backwards, Jack let go of Tum-Tum and stumbled to regain his balance. "Aiya!" With a judo sweep, Rocky knocked Jack's legs out from beneath him to where he crashed to the floor. Rocky leapt atop of him, moving to punch him in the face, stopping only when something reflective caught his eye.

His gaze shifted aside to see the wrapper of the nutritional tablets that had been passed around the tournament and schools since Jack's reappearance. A lot of things became clear to Rocky at once; 1) Jack had taken the drugs, 2) It was making him stronger than he usually would have been, 3) There was a very real chance that, because of that, Jack was going to harm them further than they'd thought was possible.

The idea came even further to mind when he felt Jack surge beneath him, forcing Rocky to do a back handspring to keep himself from being pinned beneath the enhanced man. He landed on his feet, bringing his fists up to frame his face while his brothers flanked his side.

Jack grinned at the two, a sadistic grin that betrayed the evil that burned through his eyes. He stood up straight, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "When are you brats going to learn that mixing kids with business is never a good idea?"

"Maybe when you learn that you should stop letting us _kids _ruin your business," Colt shot back. He gently rocked back and forth, watching Jack closely. "There's more to life than money."

"Oh, I doubt that boy," Jack replied.

He swung forward once more. Colt ducked out of the way and kicked Jack in the chest. But just like last time, his leg was locked under Jack's arm like Tum-Tum's had been before. He flung Colt backwards, knocking him into Rocky before he could move. Rocky fell hard to the floor, then brought up his arms to cover his face when Tum-Tum was knocked on top of the brother pile.

"Man, you need to lay off those Twinkies," Colt grunted.

"I haven't eaten a Twinkie in years!" Tum-Tum shot back.

Rocky grabbed his younger brother's arm and pushed him aside. "Tum!"

"Okay, I had one a week ago."

Ignoring him, Rocky launched a series of punches and kicks towards Jack, surprised to find Jack easily—albeit sloppily—knock his attempts to harm him aside. Nevertheless, Rocky gritted his teeth and continued to fight, using the ninja skill his grandfather had taught him to evade everything Jack as throwing their way.

The brothers took turns to take on Jack as he continued to fight them. Rocky had never seen it in person, where someone so on drugs seemed to become a supped-up version of themselves, but he'd heard numerous stories from his father. Where the person who was on drugs basically became superhuman, where they didn't feel pain or any other adverse issues with their bodies until long after they came down from their high. Jack was probably trying to get rid of the evidence on him before he got on the flight, or else he'd heard them coming and wanted to prepare himself.

Nevertheless, despite how untrained Jack was—though Rocky was sure that Jack had some sort of a boxing background—he still managed to hold off the three boys well. Even when he was distracted by one of the boys, he managed to whip around and knock the other two away from him when he threw himself around. Over and over, the three came back against Jack, working together to take him down.

"Aiya!"

"Ai!

"Aiya!"

One by one, Jack knocked Colt and Tum-Tum off their feet. Then, he rammed into Rocky, lowering his shoulder into his chest so that when Rocky hit the ground, the wind was knocked out of him. His head smacked against the floor with a _thwack _and stars exploded in front of his eyes. He moved to do a kip-up back to his feet, then Jack was over him, hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing hard.

"Jack! Put your hands up! I'm not kidding, put your hands where I can see em'!"

The stars slowly started to fade away when Rocky felt Jack's weight release from his body. He rolled back onto his shoulders then kicked his legs out, doing a kip up back to his feet. He nodded to Colt's and Tum-Tum's questions of whether he was okay, then repeated the question to hem, sighing in relief when they confirmed the affirmative. He looked over, seeing his father's partner move toward Jack with a gun raised.

"Jack Harding," Jerry said, stooping over the man to place handcuffs on him. "You're under arrest for the extortion of Jeremiah and Melinda Cross, of money laundering, or running a Ponzi scheme, kidnapping, trespassing, assault and battery, false imprisonment, and other crimes in accordance to MedoCal and other business ventures. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…"

Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum watched as Jack was taken away, kicking and screaming, practically foaming at the mouth. Rocky jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder and he whipped around to see his father standing behind him.

"Dad!"

Colt and Tum-Tum surged forward to give their father a hug. Rocky stated to move forward as well, then stopped, taking a step back to grasp his father's hand and shake it firmly. He stood back, watching his father closely. "You've been following us all night, haven't you?"

"We've been following Jack Harding as soon as he was released from prison," Sam corrected. "But I guess I should've known you boys would have ended up in the middle of everything. Even when I told you to let us handle it."

"That explains why Rock's been on edge all night," Colt remarked, his shoulders slumping in relief. He pushed his hair back off his forehead. "You've been following us."

"I haven't been on edge," Rocky scowled. _And, it isn't what dad's been doing that's distracting me. _He decided not to speak his thoughts out loud, knowing it wouldn't go anywhere. Just because he constantly 'had a feeling' about things didn't mean that things were happening. Though his grandfather consistently told him to follow his feelings, but don't let it rule him. And he was trying to do just that.

"Whatever, you've been more tightly wound than usual."

Tum-Tum ignored his brothers, removing his grasp from his father's waist so that he could look up at him curiously. Not quite having hit his maximum height yet, he still had to look up at his father when wanting to catch his eye. "What's going to happen with Jack, dad?"

"Yeah, and how'd you know we were here?" Rocky asked. "I didn't think anyone else would know that Jack would have come back here. If it wasn't for what Sydney had found on Reed's computer to confirm it, I don't think even I would've figured it out."

"It's the same thing that happened with Snyder," Sam pointed out calmly. "We couldn't quite let him know we were on to him, so all we could do was tail him until he did something that we could legitimately pin on him." He ran a hand through his hair, then pushed back the lapels of his jacket and placed his hands on his hips. "A big portion of my team was collecting evidence at MedoCal while the rest of us were lying in wait here. We knew there was a chance that he'd try to come here, some sort of way to connect back to the place that had taken him down before, to hide out before he was able to get to the airport out of the country." He lifted his eyebrows. "Now I have no idea how I thought you wouldn't do anything stupid while we were handling this…"

Colt rolled his eyes. "Come on, dad," he started.

"But I know when things like this happen to your friends, it'll be easier to put up a cement wall than to try and stop you boys," Sam said. He nodded toward Jerry, who was leading Jack out of the court room with his hands behind his back. "It was his idea to use you guys, keep an eye on you, like we were keeping an eye on Snyder. There was a chance you knew more than we did and there were things that we could use." He shook his head. "I just didn't listen and tried to keep you out of it. Like I always do."

Rocky, Colt, and Tum-Tum exchanged glances. They'd never heard their father admit his shortcomings like that before. Rocky's eyebrows came together. He studied his father closely, sensing something else was coming.

It was confirmed when, seconds later, Sam then brought himself up to his full height and looked sternly at his sons. "But because you've managed to get yourselves brought into what was a government investigation, along with the bodily harm and damage that you've caused throughout MedoCal, there's a lot we need to talk about."

"Are we going to be charged with anything?" Tum-Tum asked quietly.

Sam sighed, shaking his head. "You're not young boys anymore. And there are consequences to your actions, let along the actions of your friends. They hurt people _and _hacked into classified information. There's a lot we need to figure out. And right now, you and your friends need to be debriefed on everything that's happened tonight and over the last few weeks."

"Debriefed?" Tum-Tum's nose wrinkled as he looked down.

Rocky and Colt both rolled their eyes, placed their hands on their younger brother's shoulders, and shoved him forward. Tum-Tum stumbled before catching himself, following his father.

Rocky had a feeling they weren't going to be getting any pizza for stopping a crime that time.


	43. There's No Place Like Home

**Chapter 43**

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Rocky smiled over at Jason as his best friend rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. "For the last time, Ems. I'm _fine._" Jason shook his head, holding up his hands before slapping them back down to his chest. "You get kidnapped once; you get kidnapped one hundred times. Right, Sammy?"

It was then Rocky's turn to roll his eyes before he brought his cup of soda to his mouth and took a long sip. He set it back on the table and turned his attention to the half-eaten pizza that sat between the three of them. On a regular day one would've been completely eaten by Jason, with the other being split between himself and Emily. If that was any indication that things were different, then it was simply from the slices of pizza left over.

On a regular basis, he had to watch his fingers to make sure they still managed to survive after a night out. But with the slices being left for him to take back to his brothers, it was evident that Jason hadn't quite gotten over everything that happened, despite how much he joked about it.

"I don't think Jason wanted to go that far," Emily said. She shot Jason a glare, who shrugged and turned away. "But, if there's anyone who would know anything about it…"

"I got the point, Em, thanks," Rocky said. He reached up and rubbed at his eyes, letting out a long sigh. He pushed his hat off his forehead and dropped it onto the table, then ran a hand through his hair, allowing his bangs to flop over his forehead. "Has anything gotten better with your parents?" he asked, turning his attention to Jason. "Did they get their money back?"

"You'll probably have to ask Uncle Sam about that," Jason replied. He turned his gaze to the ceiling, deep in thought. "Things about money changing hands has never made sense to me. Let alone how they manage to get any of it back when things like this happen." He twisted his mouth to the side. "I never really got a chance to ask them before they were off to Europe."

Emily's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "They set off _again?" _Jason nodded. "It's only been…what, two weeks?"

"Yeah, well, you know how they are. Nothing can inconvenience them for more than a few minutes." Jason lifted a finger. "But they promised to bring me something back from France, so at least I have that to look forward to. You know…if I don't get mixed up in any more of these freaky ninja things. You know, I'm starting to get why your parents get worried about you when you guys hang out."

Emily rolled her eyes. She rested her chin in her hand, gently shaking her head at her friend. "Yeah, I'm sure that's it," she said sarcastically.

Rocky felt his cheeks flush, knowing without looking at Jason that he was giving him the side-eye, trying to hide his grin. But he turned his attention to the truth of Jason's and Emily's statements. He had more than enough experience of being kidnapped or targeted. And the last thing he wanted was for his friends to be caught in the crossfire. But it seemed that no matter what he did to try and avoid it happening, it just seemed to make it easier for people around him to be caught up.

He and his brothers were minding their own business, spending a regular summer with their grandfather when they got swept up in things with Snyder. They were minding their own business, having a good summer with their grandfather when the metalheads had targeted their grandfather's cabin for a dagger that ended up dragging them to Japan. They were minding their own business when they met Jo and got entangled in Jack's plan. And they were minding their own business, trying to celebrate Tum-Tum's birthday at the amusement park when that was taken over by a crazed woman who was trying to extort money from the owner of Mega Mountain.

And, this time around, they were minding their own business when…Rocky pressed his lips together, shaking his head. _No, we weren't minding our business, _he reminded himself. _You were worried about what Jack was doing, so you and your brothers wouldn't leave things alone until you figured everything out. You couldn't gone the other way, but, instead, decided to get swept up into everything._

"Come on, Rocky, talk to us." Emily reached out her hands and cupped them around Rocky's. "You can try that strong and silent act all you want, but we know there's more of it than you're letting on."

Rocky tilted his head, resting his cheek on his upraised fist. He gazed at Jason and said, "I guess I just don't know how to apologize for everything that's happened." Jason made a face. "You never asked to be a part of this, but you ended up a part of it anyway."

Jason waved his hand. "Dude, I got warned about this years ago. But I still wanted to be friends with your crazy ass. Why does it matter now?"

"Because this time you were actually targeted," Rocky said flatly. "I've been around people who stumbled their way into things that were going on." He gestured to Emily, who smiled kindly at him. "Em, Jo, Miyo, Amanda…after all that, I wanted to be sure nothing like that happened again. I never thought that they would go after you."

"Careful, Sam, you keep saying things like that and I'll think you'll mean that I'm not good enough to be a threat," Jason said. He then fluttered his eyelashes and made a show of flipping his hair, as if his shorter style made for anything to be flipped. "It's not my fault I'm not pretty enough to be the one thing that people target to crush your spirit." He paused and rubbed his chin. "Or maybe I am."

Rocky cracked up laughing along with his best friends. When he finally calmed down Jason said, "I never cared that you were a ninja, Sam. I never cared when I figured out about all the things that you did over the years when you saved the city or whatever." He waved his hands as if a magic show had appeared in front of him. "If you thought I cared about that, then why would we still be friends? If I can get past being jumped, kidnapped, and tortured—"

"—You weren't tortured, they just didn't feed you," Emily interrupted.

"To me, it's the same thing!" Jason insisted. He ignored her and turned back to Rocky. "If I can get past all that, because I knew you were going to come help me, then there's no reason for you to apologize. I know you wouldn't ever let something like that happen without _something _going on. Or else if I got killed, I'd come back and haunt you. And we both know how bad that'd be."

Rocky smirked. "So, how'd your therapy appointment going?"

"I don't know," Jason said. His eyebrows came together. "If they're supposed to tell me I'm crazy, they haven't mentioned anything yet." The side of his mouth turned up. "I have my second appointment tonight. You know, I never realized how good it feels to just sit and talk to someone."

"That's because you usually don't give people the chance to talk back," Emily pointed out.

Jason shot her the finger then sat up straight. "Anyway, Em, I really do have to thank you." She looked surprised for a second. "If it weren't for you, I don't think the police would've had an idea of where to find us." He looked at Rocky out of the corner of his eye and added, "Well, you know what I mean."

Rocky lifted his hand in response, mentally agreeing that Jason was right. The amount of time he and his brothers had spent trying to convince his father that there were strange things going on that weren't just 'ninja stuff' probably could've taken more than a year off his life. It was why he and his brothers eventually made it so that they relied on each other first and foremost when things like what happened with Harding came up. Also, Rocky could admit, it was hard for him to be told 'no' when he asked his father for information about any of the 'cases' they were part of. Yes, the intelligent part of him knew how dangerous it was, but they were just as dangerous.

Let alone lethal, considering how much he bit his nails over the security guards that had been sent to the hospital after they'd taken care of them that night. His parents had talked quietly about that long enough, had even spoken to the leaders of the Tawankan tribe about moving forward with it, but hadn't said anything to the rest of them yet. And, Rocky understood, he didn't even really know what to do moving forward.

They'd been entangled in things like that before, Snyder's people were trained in ninja skills set that went as far as murder. The catalyst that tore his and Mori's relationship, friendship, and partnership apart. He'd had guns pointed toward him in one long night when he was eleven years old. But when it came to Harding and this stuff now, they had to change tactics.

That was the part Rocky struggled with the most, that made him hesitate so much when going after Harding. That they had to change their own philosophy of only fighting back to evade, to deflect, to disarm anyone that came their way, and they had to fight back to their fullest extent. Their grandfather had made it so that they were able to defend themselves and inflict pain in the way they needed to protect themselves. The practice dummy that was nearly falling apart was proof of that.

But learning something and having to set out and do it were two completely different things and he wasn't sure that was the line he was willing to cross. But that night they had to step over that line and work hard to defend themselves and others. The feeling of…guilt, disappointment, and confusion of it all hadn't gone away since that night. If anything, it plagued him more than anything else. Had him sitting right on the edge of completely losing his cool and putting on a mask to face things like he always did.

And, as it was, they really did owe a lot of Emily. All the information she'd found and gave to Rocky she quickly passed onto Sam when she heard that Jason was missing. Rocky'd told her to stay out of things, but she ignored it and, as usual, was still there for them.

"It's nothing," Emily said. "I could use with the peace and quiet sometimes, but if you're not around, then who else am I going to annoy?"

"You mean, who else is going to annoy you?" Jason shot back.

"That, too."

The bell rang, making the three look up before gathering their food to clear the lunch table. Rocky smiled to himself when he saw Jason reach out his hand to pick up the pieces of pizza in the middle of the table. "It looks like you've got your appetite back."

"I was just being polite," Jason replied. He picked up the slices and wrapped the in the thin napkins that the cafeteria gave out, it already blotching the brown paper as he moved to shove it into his backpack. "It's rude to talk with your mouth full and you guys have been asking me questions all day." Rocky and Emily exchanged a glance, rolling their eyes. "Don't look at each other like that, I don't need to have another 'mom and dad' moment as if I can't see it."

"Well, 'mom' is telling you that you need to get to class or you're going to be late." Emily reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder, gently patting it. "Yes, I'm still going to nag you."

"Goody." Jason faked a smile.

"Come on, you guys." Rocky picked up his backpack from the floor and slid it over his shoulders. "You don't need to kill each other so early in the day. At least wait until the year is over." The three walked toward their class, breaking apart when they reached a fork in the hallway where Jason and Rocky shared their science class and Emily was in an advanced one.

Rocky reached out as Jason moved to go into the class. He pulled him back and step and lowered his voice to ask, "Do you want to go to class today?"

Jason gave him a 'duh' look. "Do I _ever _want to go? My parents could buy this place if they wanted to, I'm just forced to go here to have some sort of education to 'fall back on' if my 'video game career' doesn't take off," he said, using air quotes so succinct that Rocky knew he was mimicking his parents' words.

"Okay." Rocky turned on his heel and walked toward the receptionist's office.

"Hello Samuel," Mrs. Riger said as he walked through the door. She beamed a bright smile toward him. "What can I do for you?"

Rocky smiled in response. "I've gotten a little behind with some of my English reading," he explained. "And I was hoping I could get some extra time. Charles Dickens isn't so easy to understand."

Mrs. Riger chuckled. "I can understand that," she said. "I remember having to read it when I was young. Multiple pages and paragraphs on food and hunger. Not the most fun."

"Definitely," Rocky agreed. He paused for the appropriate amount of time then asked, almost bashfully. "Do you think you can help me out?"

"Absolutely," Mrs. Riger agreed. She grasped a pad of paper and scribbled a note on it before setting it aside. She nodded to Rocky and he smiled back before leaving the office with Jason behind him

"Wait a minute," Jason said, following along beside Rocky. He looked at him as if it were the first time he'd seen him. "You're telling me that you use your schoolboy charm that you use when talking to every adult and academic figure in a ten-mile radius to skip class?" He placed his hand on his chest. "It's like I don't even _know _you!"

"I guess a lot of people don't," Rocky said. He shrugged casually. "I don't skip a lot, just when things get to be too much."

Jason eyed Rocky for a long moment. "And no one else knows?" Rocky shook his head. "Not even your brothers?" Again, Rocky shrugged. "But you're telling me?"

"You're my best friend," Rocky said simply. Jason grinned. "If there's anyone I'm going to tell it'll be you."

"The Great Samuel Douglas—"

"—Okay, you can knock it off with the 'great' stuff." Rocky shoved Jason on the arm, nearly knocking him off the sidewalk and into the driving path that led to the front of the school. They made it to the parking lot and Rocky dropped his backpack into the bed of his truck before dropping the tailgate. He pulled himself up to sit on the end with Jason doing the same. "The pass'll last until the class is over, you don't have to worry," he said, noticing the pensive look on Jason's face.

"It's not that." Jason shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

Rocky sighed quietly. "What happened?"

Jason's eyes narrowed. "I don't think I've ever been so scared, honestly. When my house was broken into, that was one thing. I've gotten used to my place being a target for some people because of my parents' wealth. It's why we live so far out, with hardly any neighbors. They've always been private, but I never realized how much they kept themselves from other people where I didn't have anyone, I could call for help." His lips pursed. "I don't know how you do it, man. Knowing there's a chance that your entire life could be turned upside down and you go through each day as if nothing is happening."

Rocky hummed but didn't respond. It wasn't time for him to explain himself or everything he'd ever gone through. It was a tough thing to have to deal with when you lived a privileged life. Emily had been hit hard by the night she'd been assaulted by Snyder's goons, and as far as Rocky knew, the ninja training he and his brothers were learning was just fun. He never thought he'd need to use it so quickly.

And, while Jason had more than enough issues with his parents, he did live a sheltered life. Where his nannies helped raise him until he was old enough to take care of himself and his parents' wealth at least kept him alive enough to continue working their jobs with as little guilt as possible.

"That Harding guy…something's wrong with him. It was like he was talking to himself a lot, or to someone who wasn't there. Ranting, raving, screaming. Demanding what was going to happen and if he'd get his money as soon as possible." Jason shook his head. "I don't know if it's that 'vitamin' drug stuff he was trying to push but the more time that went on, the more violent he got."

"Did he attack you?" Rocky asked.

"Do you consider bruised ribs, a sprained wrist, and a sudden fear of the dark to be that he attacked me?" Jason shook his head. "Was I in the hospital as long as I thought?"

"You were severely dehydrated, Jase. And so was Mr. Jackson. That means you'd be in the hospital for a few days at least." Rocky bobbed his head back and forth. "And the bruised ribs and sprained wrist heal a lot faster than most people think they would when you're on bedrest but…"

Jason smirked. "I already know you're practically the terminator, you don't need to prove it any more than you already did. How many hospital stays have you had because of your ninja stuff?"

"Not many." Rocky pretended to think about it. "But there was a time Colt shoved me down the stairs…I don't remember much of it, but apparently I slammed his head in a door so…"

"Jeez, I never knew Jeff was that ruthless."

"It's better than when Tum-Tum sat on us."

Jason laughed. He reached up, brushing his bangs back from his forehead. "He tried to use me to get more money from my parents. And my parents never showed up."

"Would you want them to put themselves in that much danger?" Rocky asked. He thought before speaking carefully. "In cases where there's a ransom, it's better if the parents don't come close to where the kids are being held. Makes it that much easier for them to be manipulated. When the money is the focus, it's easier to keep sight unseen until the money changes hands."

"I don't need the play-by-play, Sam, I lived it."

"Sorry."

"It's alright. At least I know my real family was trying to help me out." Jason shrugged. "I knew you guys wouldn't leave me there."

"I thought about it," Rocky joked. "It would've kept things quiet for a while, without you and Emily arguing for God knows how long." He laughed when Jason reached out and shoved him hard into the side of the truck.

"Aren't you supposed to be a ninja?" Jason joked. "Aren't you supposed to be able to block hits like that?"

"I could probably kill you in seconds. Don't try it."

"Is that what happened to those guys that ended up in the hospital?"

"They're not dead they're just…" Rocky trailed off. "I don't know what's going to happen with that. Or with anything next. I've never been in so much trouble with my dad, with my mom, with the police…I don't know what's going to happen. Technically, we interfered with a criminal investigation…"

"I'm sure all the colleges are looking for that to pad their applications." Jason waved his hand. "Were your names in any newspapers this time? All over social media?"

"You're on social media more than me."

"Oh yeah. The Sam Douglas rule." Jason made a show of lowering his voice to an almost military-like staccato. "Be careful what you put on the internet. You never know how it'll come back to haunt you." He rolled his eyes. "Not like he even knows how to use social media." He mimed holding a phone two inches from his face.

Rocky laughed loudly. His laughter faded after a second. "You know you don't have to pretend like everything's okay. Things like this…it takes time to get over it."

Jason lifted an eye, looking at him seriously. "I could say the same to you."

Rocky nodded.

He knew exactly what Jason meant.


	44. Still Trying To Find That Answer

**Chapter Forty-Four**

* * *

“Basically, Mrs. Jackson, we just wanted to apologize for what happened. We never thought you’d get wrapped up into anything like this and, had we known, we probably wouldn’t have gotten your children involved.”

Renee gave a demure smile, folding her arms. “If memory serves correctly, I was the one who suggested that you go ahead with your plan to teach them ninja.” She pointed toward herself for a moment then folded her arms once more, smile widening. “So, I think I should be the one to apologize to you.”

Rocky blinked in confusion, eyes shifting, unsure of how to respond.

Noticing the look, Renee laughed and said. “I don’t think you know my kids very well. They’ll do anything to protect each other and, I guess in this instance, will do the same for us. Call it guilt or…” She shrugged. “Maybe we just raised them right.”

“Or maybe they’re completely out of control,” Reed commented, making Renee playfully swat him on the arm. “There’s more than enough proof of that.” He leaned out of the way when Renee’s eyes narrowed and she turned a glare to her husband. “Oh, I’m just kidding, love.” He turned his attention back to Rocky, getting to his feet. He reached for the crutches that sat by his chair and hefted himself to stand. “Mate, none of this has to do with you lot. Even if Harding hadn’t been your number one enemy, there’s a pretty good chance the bloke would’ve tried to kill me anyway.”

“Thankfully, my husband is so stubborn that all he received was a broken leg,” Renee agreed. Reed wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the side of the head. Which she ignored with a shake of her own. “I think the hardest part, however, is trying to fatten him back up when he’s already so vein.”

Rocky smiled politely. He cleared his throat, his smile fading into an expression of thoughtfulness. “Mr. Jackson, I came by to ask about…well…to know what happened when they had you? Jason told me they roughed him up a little, kept food from a few days…”

“Ah, you’re wondering how I was able to get away with this cast,” Reed said, wiggling the plaster around his leg. “Well, Harding wanted money from your mate’s parents, but the thing that was most important to him was that I knew to keep things quiet. Now, you’re speaking to a man who has worked with some big government people while also working on some big government contracts. It’d take a lot more than a lack of food and being roughed up to get me to talk.” He bobbed his head back and forth and winced, bringing his hand up to his neck. “But believe me, the bloke tried. I think he got some super strength off that ‘vitamin’ he had me making.”

“Did he say anything about why he was doing it all?” Rocky asked. He frowned. “It can’t just be the money.”

Reed gave him an amused look in response. “Everyone has a price tag, Rocky. Sometimes other people’s price tags are higher than ours, sometimes lower. But believe me when I say that money is always a factor into everything. Harding wanted nothing more than to make money off his supplements, to collect on all the money he made, and then leave the country with his money. It was that money that was in jeopardy when he realized I was the one whistleblower standing between him and getting away with it.”

Rocky nodded. “So…it’s like what happened with Charlie. He’d hold onto you until he got far enough away, then would get someone to…get rid of you.”

“Jeez, Rocky, when you say it so matter-of-fact like that, it makes you sound cold.” Reed smiled. “As for the part you haven’t really gotten to, yeah? I made sure your friend was alright the best I could. As for my kids…” he ducked his head, exchanging a glance with his wife, who looked meaningfully back at him. “There’s a reason why Ren needed to apologize to you. They can get a bit carried away with things, they can be rambunctious, but they always have a fierce need to protect everyone around them. Even if they choose the worst ways to do it.” Reed tucked his crutches under his armpits and started to swing toward the stairs. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to see if there’s a way I can keep my little hacker out of prison.”

Renee waved to Rocky as she went to follow her husband.

Rocky nodded back and excuse himself rom the house. He carefully closed the front door behind him, always a hard and fast rule of the Douglas house; don’t slam doors, especially the front door. Turning, Rocky spun his keys up into his palm, eyebrows coming together.

“Do you always look like you’re going to pitch a fit when you leave someone’s house, or are we just special?” He looked up, seeing Riley walking up the driveway way, a surfboard tucked under her arm, wet hair hanging in her face. “Hey, Sam.”

“Why do you keep calling me Sam?” Rocky surprised himself, asking. He’d noticed it, if he were being honest, as far back as the start of the school year. Hadn’t realized it was something he’d noticed.

She gave him a funny look, slowing to a stop near him, at the head of the driveway. She leaned the surfboard against the garage door before saying, “Because that’s how you introduced yourself to me.” She gave him a funny look. “Remember? When we met at the ninja tournament.”

“Actually, we first met in the pizza shop,” Rocky pointed out after a moment of thought.

Her eyebrows twitched upwards. “You remember that?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah.”

He sucked his lips into his mouth for a moment. Then said, almost hesitantly, “Everyone calls me Rocky.”

“I’m not everyone.”

“I noticed.” Rocky felt himself blush at his admission then looked away.

Riley smiled to herself. Then she bounced her shoulders once and asked, “Honesty?” referring to Rocky’s question that he asked of her.

“Yeah.”

“Because at any given time you’re two different people.” Riley held up her hands as if they were a scale and lifted one hand. “On one hand, you’re Sam; the boy next door, a gentleman who doesn’t like a lot of attention on himself.” She eyed him for a moment. “Who cares way too much about what other people think about him, by the way.” He smiled. She lifted her other hand. “Then there’s Rocky; the natural born leader, the one who runs into danger without thinking about it, the one who’s a bit of a showoff,”—he felt a rush of annoyance at the same comment he’d gotten since he was a child—"and has a sense of confidence bordered on arrogance that he doesn’t care who sees, and who could probably kill me faster than I could blink.” She held her hands up evenly. “I’ve met Sam and I’ve met Rocky.” She pressed her palms together. “And I’m kind of interested to know what it’s like if you were ever able to put both parts of yourself together, yeah?”

“You and me both,” Rocky said with a sigh.

“That sounds a little ominous.” She looked at him for a long moment. “You look like you want to talk about something.”

“It’s just…” Rocky took in a deep breath. He closed his eyes, letting it out. Unable to keep things in much longer. Even the thought of everything felt like a weight off his shoulders. “I’m tired of not knowing who I am. I’m tired of…always having to be what other people think I am; the one who has to give up what I’m doing to help everyone else. I’m always the one taking Tum to his dentist appointments, and Colt to his practices, and I’m always looking out for them. I had rules put on me that my brothers don’t have, they get to do more things than I was able to do. I’m constantly asked about them, have to sit in on their doctor’s appointments when my parents are too busy, so I can relay information, I have to do what they do, I have to do what my _dad _does. I have to be Samuel Douglas Jr. and not figure it out on my own and…”

“And you feel guilty about complaining about it when you want your own life,” Riley supplied the last part. The part that gave him the most pause of the situation. Rocky looked at her in surprise. “I get it. I mean, I don’t sit in on my brothers’ appointments and I don’t have to worry too much about the rule thing—though Julius would tell you otherwise—but I get the sense of responsibility. That pressure to be like a mini parent when the parents aren’t there. Where…” she looked towards the sky as she thought. “Where you’re growing up and trying to figure yourself out, but you’re also responsible for the way the others grow up, too, as if there are three parents and not two. But you get it because of the sacrifice your parents made to give you a good life and sometimes that meant there were things you missed out on because they needed you to play babysitter. You’re an adult with a curfew and they’re too afraid to let you fall.”

Rocky stared at her. More surprised by himself admitting all those things rather than having someone who understood. And didn’t just say they understood, but actually, _truly _understood it. Understood how it was annoying at the worst of times but felt guilty about complaining over it when his parents worked hard. It couldn’t be easy being a Director of FBI and someone highly sought after in Public Relations.

“What?” Riley asked after a stretch of silence.

“Nothing,” Rocky replied. “I hope your dad feels better. I’m sorry for what happened.”

“Oh, not as sorry s we’re going to be.” She rolled her eyes. “Have you ever tried telling a guy who lives to work out and go to the beach ‘no’? Believe me, it’s no bloody picnic.”

Rocky smiled and headed to his truck. He climbed inside and headed home. His mind went blank as he drove, as it typically did. Driving was one of the times where he found himself able to meditate, focusing on the rhythmic hum of the engine and on the regular pathways that he continued to follow to and from school, to and from work, to and from his grandfather’s cabin. It usually helped him clear any of the anxiety that was stuck with him from a hard day’s work.

The last time he’d been able to meditate, things had come crashing down only moments later. When Jason had mentioned Harding’s return to LA. Where Rocky could have taken the advice that he’d given his brothers, where nothing was going wrong, where they had _nothing _to worry about. But he found himself dragged into something they could have avoided.

The thought was stuck in his mind when they returned to the house, pulling into the driveway as Colt backed away, giving him space, before putting the quiet lawn mower back into the garage. Colt folded his arms, waiting for his brother to leave his truck before asking, “How’d it go?”

“About as we expected,” Rocky replied. He slammed the door of his truck shut with a sharp press from the palm of his hand. “I don’t think there’s anything we have to worry about. Everything seems to be done.”

Colt gave him a funny look. “You said the same thing before all this started,” he pointed out. “That we have nothing to worry about.”

“It’s funny, I was just thinking about that,” Rocky replied. Colt’s eyebrows rose in mild surprise. “About all this, when Harding was first released from prison.” He glanced at the lawn that Colt had just finished cunning, then up to the house. To what seemed to be picture perfect to anyone who was passing by, who knew the Douglases. Who _thought _they knew the Douglases. “What do you think would’ve happened if we didn’t do anything?”

Colt snorted. “_Us _not do anything?”

Rocky smiled back. “I know but…sometimes…”

“I know.” Silence stretched between them for a moment. A more comfortable silence than what he’d felt before. “There’s more than enough going on, we don’t need to add all of this weird stuff into it every year.” He waved his hand around, as if gesturing toward everything. “School’s already starting to become weird again. People move out of the way when I’m coming down the hall…”

“They already did that. Your reputation precedes you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s better than having a reputation as a goody two shoes,” Colt shot back. He shook his head. “Sometimes, you really need to learn how to have fun.”

“At what cost?” Rocky shot back, feeling his teeth clench together, almost instinctively. “Where all our friends get hurt? What’ll happen the next time? Will mom and dad get hurt? Will they decide to make a fake vacation for us to want to take and we all end up kidnapped?”

“I get it, Rock, chill.” He held up his hands defensively, eyes flashing with as much anger Rocky’d ever seen in his brother’s face. No, frustration. “I’m just saying…our lives would be pretty boring without all that stuff. I’m not saying Jo’s having been arrested or the Tawankans having to be targeted by Harding again was great, just…” he let out a deep breath through his nose. “I don’t know where I’d be without it all. Ninja’s my life, without it…I don’t know who I am.”

Rocky nodded. He understood. Told his brother as much before turning to go into the house. Stopped only when he heard his brother call back after him. “There’s just one last thing,” Colt said, making Rocky slow in his tracks.

Rocky glanced at his brother over his shoulder. “What’s that?”

“Why’d you let me win?”

With a heavy sigh, Rocky turned completely to face his brother. “Colt,” he said in warning. Though he knew the warning was never what it should be. He couldn’t quite remember a time where simply saying Colt’s name actually made Colt stop whatever it was he was doing and drop it.

“Oh come on, Rocky.” Colt’s nose wrinkled. “We both know you did it.”

“Just leave it.”

“Why?” Colt took a step toward him. “You can’t stand the idea that I might’ve beaten you. It may happen, Rock. We all learned the same things. You might have had more time than I did, but we learned it and we took it all in, in different ways. Who’s to say that I couldn’t beat you?”

Rocky shrugged. He turned back to the house, then stopped all at once. A chill ran down his spine, sending goosebumps flying up and down his arms and neck, made the tiny hairs stand on end. He whipped around, grabbing Colt’s arm, blocking it from completing the chokehold move that was made so that his weight would be used against him and he’d be pinned to the ground.

Quickly, and in a flurry of movements, Rocky knocked Colt’s legs from beneath him and flipped him onto his back on the ground. Colt groaned in pain, eyes falling shut as he shook his head quietly. Rocky grinned down at his brother. “I guess you’ll never know for sure.”

“Shut up.”


	45. Someone Has All The Answers

**Chapter Forty-Five**

* * *

**Harding Taken Back Into Custody**

_The infamous Jack Harding—known for his hand in the pollution of the Indian Reservation—was taken back into custody late last night. Harding is well known for his numerous lucrative businesses as well as the toxic landfill that poisoned several of the Indian community's elders. Since having been sent to prison, Harding lost all his assets and what has been attached to his estate. As with the case of Hugo Snyder and Medusa, FBI agent Samuel Douglas's three sons were among those who took down Jack Harding the first time. However, it seems to be the catalyst to Harding's nefarious plot. This time, it appeared that all of Los Angeles was his target. It has been found that the new pharmaceutical company, MedoCal, was created, funded, and ran by Harding through numerous names, trusts, and identities. With funding seized, it is clear that Harding planned on liquidating his assets, setting up those that worked for him to take the fall, and extradite himself to another country. Harding had fully served his term in prison before his previous release, and with his capture he will be transferred to Los Angeles County, the FBI's Los Angeles Branch._

Hugo Snyder laughed quietly to himself.

It's like they always said. Revenge was a dish best served cold.

And what was colder than using someone else as a fall guy to relieve suspicion off himself of getting revenge on your worst enemy, and no one being the wiser?

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

**A/N: **Last chapter! Did you guys see that coming at all? I doubt it. But I've been working toward that reveal for forever! Originally, it wasn't going to end that way but then the idea hit me and I couldn't let it go! The last chapter was going to be the boys at Homecoming after a time jump, but I realized it made a better opening for the next story. So, thank you all for reading and reviewing _Crossroads. _The sequel, _Walking The Other Way, _will be up soon!

**Cheers,**

**-Riles**


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